Desire
by sweetprincipale
Summary: Sequel to A Model Romance. Set in early S. 6, Buffy and Spike formed a difficult, but loving, relationship when they were forced to work together in an isolated situation. Can they make things work once they return home? Rated M, please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part I

"C'mon! It's startin'!" Spike laughed and pulled Buffy into his crypt, slamming the heavy door shut after her.

"It was so nice out earlier. Stupid rain." She pouted, shaking out her hair. "Oh well, not that I mind. I was planning to go in anyway." She giggled and leaned forward, letting Spike's mouth meet hers.

"Say it again." He breathed.

"I love you." She whispered, eyes closed and forehead grooved.

She has trouble saying it. But she means it. That's a damn sight better than the way we've been going on. "It's okay, Luv. If it's too hard to say right yet-"

"I can say it!" She protested, biting her lip. "I- it just sounds strange. And, I mean look who I'm saying it to!" She giggled. "I do mean it."

"I know you do. You're here with me." Spike shoved the cement slab hiding the entrance to the lower half of his crypt. He swallowed down the fears he felt, had to be the brave one tonight, didn't he? He had to act like she wasn't going to turn and run at the last second...

I'm going to go sleep- I mean, have sex- no, I mean _make love_, with Spike. In his _bed_. In his _crypt_. Oh my God, oh my God, ohmygod! Buffy's heart sped up and she knew Spike could hear it. Probably knew it wasn't lust driving her pulse this time. I should run, right now.

Spike used all the swagger he had in the small gesture of tilting his head to the open panel, and stretching out his hand to her. "Ladies first, Luv."

She hesitated. Just for a second. Time to be brave. To live in this world again. To love someone again. Someone who wasn't really meant for this world either, but here they were, two hunters in the night, with rusty hearts and chips on their shoulders. And, oh yes, what shoulders... Buffy grinned suddenly. "Sure it's not booby trapped?"

Spike winced. The last time- no he wouldn't go there. The stupid ways he'd tried to force her into loving him, ultimatums, threats, God... no wonder she's got a soddin' emotional Fort Knox where her heart used to be. He smiled arrogantly for a split second, watching her slide past him. Good thing he was excellent at breakin' and enterin'. "It's safe as I can make it, Luv."

And they shared an uncomfortable look of worry. Anyone could walk in, and only the fact that most people didn't realize that this mausoleum had a "basement" would keep them hidden. And if someone did stumble across them, fighting was their only option. Buffy laughed quietly to herself. That would suit Spike. He liked the fight, the more against him, the better. Probably the only reason he was still alive- well- not dust. He was a fighter, a survivor. And he was helping her remember that she was one, too.

"Erm. Not much in the way of accommodations, really." Spike stepped off the last rung of the ladder and looked around, running his hand through his platinum locks. "Not much for visitors. Never let Bit come down here."

Buffy wrinkled her nose at the pile of skulls adorning the far corner under the ladder. "Yeah..."

"Well, don't be so dainty, all the sudden, Slayer! All of those were here when I moved in. It's only four skulls. What's that, a quiet night's kill for you?"

"Don't be disgusting." She spat, and crossed her arms.

Infuriatin' little thing. And he loved her with all his heart. "I'll clear it up- tomorrow." A flicker of flame, and Spike's silver lighter was creating a soft glowing tide, lighting a variety of pillar candles in various stages of melting that adorned the nooks and crannies and battered wooden chests on the sides of the impressively lush queen size bed. "There? Does that help the ambience, Luv?"

Buffy slowly took off her coat. He was trying, wasn't he? He didn't have much, and God knew it wasn't easy for him to be good and still keep things going, keep himself fed. Vampires could pillage and kill to get what they needed. And he wasn't doing any such thing, he couldn't, but she also believed he wouldn't. Oh, she knew he stole, but he didn't hurt anyone, and he didn't take anything big. "It's cozy." She stepped up beside him. "I- I feel- I don't know, not safe... I feel protected."

"I can make it more secure, if you like." He pointed up to the slab at the top of the stairs. He hadn't pulled it back over the hole, but he knew it wasn't the wisest thing to leave it open, show anyone who might come searching for him that he had another part to his home. But he hadn't pulled it over, yet. The girl had nightmares about bein' buried alive, and you ask her to come to your crypt? The girl had been trapped in her grave, and yet she was supposed to spend every night patrolling grave yards, looking at thousands of creatures clawing their way out of the earth, just had she'd been forced to do herself. He marveled again at her strength, and that she hadn't gone completely carrot-top during this little "adjusting to resurrection" period. "But, no, no that's a bad idea, an' I'm sorry I mentioned it, Pet. We don't even have to be down here, I can move the pillows an'-"

Buffy tilted her head to the side, raising her eyebrows, lips twitching. "Spike? Do you want to stop backpedaling, or are you trying to qualify for some verbal olympics cycling event?"

"I know- this is sort of a- grave. An' it's not the best place to bring you."

"Oh." She nodded knowingly. "No, I don't feel trapped in here. And- you're here. I'm not alone, and trapped. I can get out. I can." Her breathing had deepened, and he hurriedly put his arm around her, drawing her to sit on the bed.

"Yes, yes, plenty of room, Sweetlet. And lights. And I can leave the trapdoor open. Alright, Pet?"

"Yeah, good." She nodded, and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Thank you. For getting it." For not being like everyone else and treating me like glass, or treating my fear like they're nothing...

"I got it." He responded softly, and leaned in to her again, lips gently nibbling hers, waiting for that sudden blast of courage she got, the one that pushed her out of her shell, and into his arms. "I love you. I'm gonna look after you."

"I know." She murmured, fears fading. The place was just a place. Spike was why she was here. "Close the door. I'm not going to get interrupted by any of your big, stupid poker buddies."

"Sure?"

"Positive." She smiled and slowly undid the few remaining buttons on her white over shirt.

Spike pulled the slab back into place, shinning up the ladder and back down like a sailor up the rigging of a ship. He paused as he turned to her. He would have to get the place in shape if she'd be over much. Towels, for one thing, in case she wanted to shower. And the "shower" itself, well, nothing he could do for that. Something besides blood and alcohol in the fridge. Sodas. Maybe a second chair? _Let's see if we can get through one night here before plannin' the future._

"I never pictured you for the luxury bed type guy." She smiled, admiring the ornate bed with plush linens.

"Got used to a nice bed. With Dru." He coughed awkwardly. "She was sick for a long while see, and I-" He stopped and cursed himself for bringing up his old love. What he'd _thought_ was love.

"And you took care of her. You're very good to the people you love."

"I _did_ love her. But that was like a drop in the ocean compared to how much I love you." He suddenly closed the distance between them, sitting beside her on the bed. "An' you jus' let me, Buffy, an' I can prove it."

"I know." She whispered, even though she didn't exactly understand how she had managed to cast such a fascination on him, that he would think he could love her more than the woman he'd loved for a century.

"I loved her with the worst part of myself, Luv." Spike read her hesitation. "An' I love you with the best."

She whimpered softly as they moved together, as one, to find each other more fully. He pulled her across her lap, and she wound her arms around his chest and joined them at his back. He groaned and his hand fumbled at his waist, she could hear the slow click and flip of his belt releasing, and then the quick sound of metal teeth opening as he unzipped.

He heard two hollow clunks, her boots hitting the floor. Her fingers, warm and alive, pulling his shirt up, pulling her shirt up, as he helped. He paused in his deep, needy kisses to look at her properly. She's here. With me. In my bed. "You're real?"

"As you are." She giggled. "God, I'm all giggly tonight! It's ridiculous."

"You just need someone to take away the stress, Luv." He gave her quick smirk, and resumed undressing her, his hands a bit too eager and he heard the "ping" of her pants button rolling to the floor.

"Hey! I like these pants!" She huffed, but before he could make any reply, she'd pulled his head back to hers and resumed kissing him. The rest of their clothes disappeared in a few smooth pulls and twists, and she shivered in the candlelit darkness.

Well, of course, you fool, she's _alive_. It's a big, underground vault, basically, and not what you'd call "heated". And you don't exactly keep a person a warm until you've had time to absorb some of their heat, he berated himself. "Here, Baby." He tugged one side of the covers down. "Let's get you warmed up."

"I'm fine." She shook her head. No way am I getting under the covers of this thing. I bet this bed is still full of Harmony traces. Oh gag...

"No, stop bein' an almighty Chosen One, an' be a girl who needs the basics, like love an' not shiverin' when there's a nice warm bed to curl up in."

He's right. God, I hate that! Oh well, I'm sleeping with a dead guy, and I guess I've got to take what he has to offer. She moved the comforter she was lying on down to the side, and slid her smooth legs under, trying not think so hard, just relax, just be in love. She forced herself to take a deep breath and relax- and inhaled the scent of her favorite brand of detergent. "You use the same laundry soap I do! You use laundry soap!" She seemed shocked, but relieved.

Spike had to laugh at her wide eyed smile. "Reminds me of you." His laugh became slightly bitter as he continued, "I really know how to dish out the pain, huh, Luv? Made sure the last thing I smelled at night, an' the first I smelled in the mornin' reminded me of the thing I wanted most and couldn't have."

She caressed his jaw as it hovered a few inches above her face. "But you do have me now." She pointed out, much more at ease since she knew the sheets were clean and the bed was warm. And she was in love with the man in bed with her. That most of all. "And now I love you." She reminded him, not quite looking at him.

He could have cried, he could have crowed, but he was silent and smiling in the wake of her admission. She's said to me three times now. Three times is one too many times for it to have been a mistake, in my book. That's real, that is. "I love you, too, Buffy." He finally voiced, and stroked his hand softly up her face and down her neck. "This is real, Precious. You get that, right? You come in here with me, in this bed, an' you'll never be rid of me."

"Uh, if I remember correctly, I was never gonna be rid of you anyway, so yeah. I get that." His eyes reflected some concern. Not quite the answer he had wanted, too casual, too resigned. "I know what I'm doing. I want it to be real. Show me it's real. Show me_ I'm_ still real." She entreated, hands growing more desperate as she ended her sentence.

"Oh, yes." He breathed. He blazed kisses hard across her silken skin, biting slightly on her tensed nipples and the hollow of her slightly concave abs, down to each hipbone, across her-

"Ohhhh God, yes. Oh, God! Yes!" She arched her trembling slit up into his mouth more deeply, and grasped his hands as they rested on her waist.

"Real enough?" He purred, swirling his tongue over her pink bead.

"I'm letting a vampire convince me what's real. This is so wacked." She moaned, and burrowed her head into the pillow in her ecstasy.

"Well, I'm provin' it to a vampire slayer. If I'm not real- you wouldn't be real, now would you, Luv?"

"Good point." Buffy sat up slightly, looking at him, bathing in the light of his blue eyes. I never think of half the stuff you say." She said in a suddenly more focused voice.

"And you'd like me to stop, wouldn't you? Makin' you think?" He smiled devilishly at her, his chin resting on her mound.

"Just for right now. Okay? The deep thinking takes away the Buffy spasms."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." His finger found her most sensitive spot and teased it. She spasmed and arched and he captured her wet lower lips again. "Plenty of movement, wouldn't you say, Pet?"

"Spike- Spi-ike." His name a broken sigh on her lips.

"Buffy, my Buffy." An answering sigh.

"Make love to me again?"

"Yes, Baby, yes." Eagerly scaling her, leaving another path of kisses. "I love you."

"I love you. God, yes, I _love_ you." She cried and welcomed her lover into her, grabbing him, pulling him in.

She electrified him, head to toes, literally sending shudders coursing all over his pale body. "What the hell's gotten in to you, Slayer?" He gasped as she grasped him harder, reversing them for a moment, staring into his eyes before she flattened herself to him.

"I love you! I _love_ you, Spike, can't you feel it? Don't you feel how much better it is?" Buffy felt like she'd been woken up, coming out from under a fog. Admitting she was in love inside her head, while he was inside her, had opened her body all the way. Admitting it to herself, to him, out loud, was like sliding the final bolt from the door of her heart and soul. The emotional fortress sprang open, shot her out where she was naked and vulnerable. She was falling now, crashing down... Only to be caught, to be saved from the darkness she'd been feeling. Maybe she wasn't a princess, maybe he wasn't a white knight, but they could save one another. "Don't you feel it?" She demanded again, riding him slowly, her head only a few inches from his, calves twining with his as she lay atop him.

"Feels like heaven." He gasped, staring into her eyes wonderingly, hopeful awe registering on his wide eyes and slightly open mouth as he smiled at her. "Maybe it's not the best choice of words, Luv, but it's the closest I'll ever get to it."

"No, Spike. You're right. It isn't my-my first heaven, but it's still some kind of heaven." She whispered.

"You never say near this much, Luv, when we're together." Spike neatly reversed them yet again, pushing up to his elbows, hands brushing her long locks back. Her eyes flashed with a sudden reluctance, and he hurried to soothe her fears. "I love it. You can always talk to me. Might not give good advice, but..." He shrugged playfully.

"I don't want good advice. I want good sex." She teased him suddenly and milked him hard once with her squeezing softness.

"Ahhh, God, Baby, you'll get it" He grunted suddenly. "But not sex."

"No, you're right. Love. Good love."

His lips found her ear as he pumped slowly in and out of her, rocking her hips deeper into the bed with each thrust. "Y'know I'm not good, Luv- but d'you know that I try to be?"

"You're good enough for me." She whispered, genuinely meaning it. "I'm not saying I'm ready to run around and announce you're my perfect guy- but you're all I want." She blushed. "Why can I say these things to you?" She looked genuinely annoyed with herself.

" 'Cause you don't need to prove anything to me. Already know how tough you are." Spike slid into her a bit harder, making her moan. "Know you're only soft if I earn it." He moved gently again.

"You've earned it." She whispered hoarsely. "You've more than earned it- for now." They exchanged a smile.

"Gonna keep me in line?" He teased.

"Y-you don't need me for that." She struggled to admit it. She visibly winced and closed her eyes. "You would be good- because you love me. I get it."

Spike marveled again. "Not to crush the tender moment, Pet, but did you hit your head when we crashed through that loadin' dock?"

"Huh?"

"You went from tellin' me we couldn't last an' callin' me evil, to tellin' me you love me an' I'm good enough for you." He watched her eyes spark and slid into her hard, holding her hips down. "Not that I'm complainin'."

"I didn't hit my head." She confessed with a sigh. "I just- you know I'm not saying you're all pure or something, right? It's just that- I'm not so perfect either. I see that more now. So- you're good enough for me."

"You're settlin' then?" Spike grimaced, but didn't let her speak. He didn't really want to know. "I'm okay with that. I know I'm gonna take care of you and make you happy as I can." He said seriously. " So I guess in my book, you're not settlin' for less than you need, maybe less than you deserve. An' I still get to love you, and you love me. It might be settlin' for you, but it's more than I could ever ask for."

"I'm not settling for you, idiot!" Buffy said angrily. "I- this could never be called settling, Spike. I'm going against thousands of years of slayer training here!"

"I'm going against a millennia of vamp instincts." He countered.

She rolled over, pinning him, trapping him deep inside her, and for a moment they forgot their playful arguing, and the heartfelt conversations that were flowing with their love making, and just let themselves glide along together, enjoying, touching, watching one another.

Spike rested a hand on each of her breasts, soft and warm in his palms, just like he had imagined the first night they were in Cliffside. "I didn't want to love you. I didn't even want to _like _you. And now I do both." She hung her head, partly in guilt, partly in weariness.

"Here now, none of that." He lifted her chin, and struggled to sit up a bit. "You don't have to be ashamed of it- no one'll ever need to know, Luv, if it's that important to you. Won't have you feelin' ashamed of yourself. You're a hero, Buffy." Her eyes met his, and he knew that she didn't want to be there hero anymore. Not as much as she just wanted to be normal. "You're also a girl. Girls don't always fall for blokes that fit the ideal."

"I'm trying. You know that." She whispered.

"I do. Just give us a chance, Luv." He pleaded.

"I will." She agreed. She slowly rolled off of him, onto her back. Spike stared at her, the tender concern in his eyes magnifying as she slowly ran her hands up her bare arms.

She's trusting me. Look at her, all vulnerable, and soft, in my bed, Spike licked his lips. The lustful hunger merged with the burning love he felt, and cooled into a perfect blend of sweet passion. "I love you." He murmured, moving astride her again. And this time, he was determined to keep her there, under him, letting him do the work, give her a proper thank you for making him feel so good, for confessing her love and letting them try to make this relationship work even when they were back on their own turf.

This was like Angel, only so much better, Buffy thought. Immediately guilt started surging through her. _Angel_ was the one she was supposed to love. But Angel left, and Spike didn't. Maybe it's time you rethought your definition of "supposed to", she thought with an internal frown. And while you're thinking of things to reconsider, ask why Angel without a soul is so awful, and why Spike without his soul is actually a pretty decent guy. Supposed to? Screw that. She never did anything like she was supposed to, hence Giles' prematurely gray hair.

Spike?"

"Mm, Baby?" He panted against her, feeling her resistance shift from low to medium, back to low.

"I love you. I love this. And now that I can say it, it feels so much better. I'm not holding back anymore."

"You were holdin' back before?" Spike murmured. "You mean on sayin' you loved me?"

She nodded. "The last few times."

"Can't believe it, Luv." He gave her a deliriously happy smile. "You actually wanted to say it, earlier?" She bobbed her head once, firmly. "That's wonderful." His smiled twisted, tongue curling in a sudden smirk. "You won't have to hold back this time. An' now that we don't have any neighbors to bother us, I'm gonna do things to you that make you wanna scream it at the top of your lungs."

"I'm not really much for screaming." She blushed. He surged in her, and rocked his hands under her shoulder blades, cradling her back, enveloping her in his muscular chill. "But, I mean, hey, who am I to stop you from trying?" Her eyelids fluttered shut. Damn him. He made her feel so good, all the stupid noises she thought could only be faked by paid actresses were now crashing around inside her, trying to find a way out. But they'd better not, the last thing Spike needs it anymore ego. He's turning me into some kind of stupid sex kitten. And, oh God, do I love this... Her back arched, and her eyes opened. He was smirking down on her, but not in a gloating way.

" Not much for screamin', huh? Only 'cause no one's given you the right treatment, Luv, while you're lovin' them back. Think it has to be a two -way street to work proper. An' maybe scream is the wrong word. I'm gonna make you gasp it, cry it, moan it. Loudly, of course." And he smashed his mouth on to hers, tongue claiming her in the way his hardness was claiming her other opening.

"Prove it." She challenged weakly after he kissed her breathless, boneless, defenseless under him. At least her mouth still worked, she thought in relief. For a second, I thought he might have permanently disabled my lips.

He laughed and nuzzled her cheek. "I will, Sweetheart. Jus' tell me one thing."

"I love you." She anticipated his request.

"An' I love you. But I was gonna ask if you feel like you want it slow, or you want it hard? Both are gonna be good."

She tried to act carefree. Boy, look how easily she was saying it to him. Just to him and Dawn. But that was a start. "Umm." She teased her fingers up his neck, to his hair line, stroking it back and admiring his beautiful face. "Can I have it slow, with occasional bouts of hardness?"

He thrust up into her sensitive upper wall. "Hardness is a given." He teased. "But I know what you meant." He rotated inside her, feeling her stroking him back in a counter rhythm. "Still gonna make you lose control- jus' for a few minutes." He breathed, a sinfully seductive glow in the depths of his eyes.

"Just for a few minutes." She agreed with a hard swallow.

Buffy yawned and stretched as she rolled over, waking up slowly, feeling her leg muscles trembling slightly in fatigue. What was that about? She flexed her toes, trying to soothe the tension in her calves, and her foot brushed someone else's. "Spike!" She cried, bolting up, holding the red sheet to her naked body. Even as she exclaimed, sounding distressed, her face broke into a smile. "Hi." She repeated more softly.

" 'Lo, Sweets." He stretched, too and cracked his knuckles, sitting up beside her. "You take it out of a chap, Slayer. I'm usually good for a few more rounds."

"I think five rounds is plenty." She sank into the cleft of his chest and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry I fell asleep. I really should have gotten home..."

"It's early yet. For us. Must be-" Spike let his vampire senses emerge more fully and felt the level of darkness, the height of the moon, from somewhere inside himself.

"- about 3:00?"

"That's not too bad." Buffy slowly untangled herself from the sheets, shivering, and searching for her clothes.

"Thanks for stayin' for a bit, anyway." Spike was behind her, arms around her slim hips, head on hers. "Think your coat's upstairs. Give me a minute an' I'll walk you home."

"You don't have to do that. Slayer, remember? I kill guys like you?"

"Yeah, but I'm not doin' it to protect you. I'm doin' it so I get 15 more minutes to look at you, talk to you.." His lips pressed her neck and he inhaled sharply, savoring the sweet smell of her skin, a mixture of his sheets, her soap, their sex. "Gettin' a few more minutes to taste you, breathe in your scent..." He lightly flicked her earlobe with his tongue.

She shivered. No one had ever seemed so in to her. Certainly not using words like "taste her, breathe her". Not even Angel, and he was a vampire. Spike was so raw, so passionate, animalistic... and she found the blend of the untamed passions combined with the intense effort to control it absolutely irresistible. She felt herself get wet, and felt him harden along her tailbone.

"Yes, Buffy, like that. Smell you wantin' me again."

"You-" Her eyes widened. "I need a shower."

"What?" He let her go, and she spun to face him.

"I need a shower! Spike, oh my God, we absolutely reek of sex, I-"

He interrupted with a calming palm to her shoulder. "We only know that 'cause we've got the super senses, Luv. No one else is the wiser." He soothed.

"I don't care! I- look at me, my hair's all messy, and I'm all wet- don't look at me like that, I mean in the not yummy way."

"It's very yummy." He disagreed. "You look beautiful. Hair all passion wrecked, thighs wet from where you leak for me, proof of what you do to me, what we do to each other..." His finger trailed expertly between her lips, picking up a long slick ribbon of their combined essences. "You look loved."

"I know. And I'm glad." She shivered into his fingertips, and slowly felt herself lowering back to the bed. "And if it were just me, going home alone- I wouldn't worry."

"But it's your mates, and Niblet?"

"Yeah." She bit her lip. "You don't mind? I'm not trying to 'wash you off' me or anything." She looked at him guiltily.

"Not anymore, anyway." He smiled melancholily. "C'mere. I'll show you what I've got rigged in the way of a shower. You're more than welcome to it. An' I'll head to the dorms tonight."

"Dorms?" Buffy sat back up as he backed away. She had been sure he'd make one more play for her, and part of her was a little disappointed. _But no, he wouldn't do that, 'cause you pretty much freaked out about how you look and smell from being with him. Kind of cools a guy's heels. God, Buffy, can't you even date a dead guy the right way? Oh no, you can't. 'Cause slayers don't date. _

"Yeah, gonna wash the sheets for us. It's cheaper than the town laundromat. I can go back there now that the Initiative chappies are gone. Sometimes I'd just toss my things in with someone else's get it for free. Never had much to wash."

"You- used to come to the dorms and do laundry?" Buffy gaped at him.

"Only a few times. Not like I care if I get a bit mussed, no one to really look good for. Didn't really have to do much to impress Harm, an' God knows I didn't want to." They exchanged a knowing smile. "You knew her before, right?"

"Yeah. I did." Buffy acquiesced sadly.

"Was she that stupid, or was it the demon?" Spike asked, almost fearfully.

"Before. Always the poster girl for valley girl airhead."

"Thank God. Couldn't live with me'self if I thought a vamp inflicted that amount of gormlessness on her."

"Gor-what?" Buffy asked, following Spike to the hole in the wall (literally) shower.

"Gormless. Means brainless. Daft, stupid. British term. Ask the Watcher, he'll tell you. Would hate to think gettin' turned did that to a person."

"But torturing people with railroad spikes is okay?" She asked, hands on hips. He shrugged, and she sighed.

Spike snapped the water pipe from its jointed hinge, and a stream of ice water attacked their naked bodies. He quickly snapped it back up. "Sure you don't want to wait 'til you're home?"

"No, I can deal with a little cold water." He nodded, with a small frown, a look of "it's your skin, not mine" and turned it back on.

Buffy set her teeth and didn't yelp, but she shivered and scrubbed furiously. She took the bottle nearest her, and Spike's hand batted it away.

"That's my hair gel. Soap's on the left." He stepped under the stream with her and tried to protect her from some of it.

"I-I'm fine." She gasped and pushed him away. He let her subject herself to the ice water, and then watched her gasp and shiveringly shove the pipe closed again. "Towel?"

"Here." Spike knocked a few candles over as he yanked open the chest and handed her one of his three, four if you counted his present from Buffy, black tee-shirts. "I'll get some towels, too."

"You don't have towels?" I so sound like a whiny brat. I sound like Cordelia. Oh, God, please no. "I mean, of course, you don't have towels. Not like you need them, right?"

"Well, cold water doesn't faze me near as much as a human. And not like I'm pressed for time, most days. I can shower and then stay down here and drip dry, or if I do have to shove into my clothes, and be off, I air dry pretty quick." He roughly scrubbed the water from her skin, and wrapped his arms around her. "You alright?"

"Fine. Fine, really." She kissed him as he looked at her with all the softness of a lovesick schoolboy. Kind of cute on him. Big blue eyes, and those pale lips in that sweet smile... Wet. Again. Not in the ice water way. Dammit!

His dark chuckle made her expression go from soft and dreamy to hard and focused. She suddenly shivered and clung to him as she opened her mouth to retort about his gloating chuckle, and stopped. "What's wrong?" He pressed.

"Cold." She bit off.

"Well, sod your pride or whatever it is you're playin' at, Slayer, an' get back into bed with me. I'll warm you up, Luv."

"No, I'm good. Just hand me my stuff." Spike was already shoving her shirt over her head. "Bra!"

"Oh." He looked around for it, and so did she. "I didn't nick it, it's someplace..." They did a quick search of the bed and floor, and found the bra under the pillows. He handed her the rest of her clothes and she put them on over her damp skin, still trembling slightly. Spike tilted his head and put his hand on her back. "You're sure you're well, Pet?"

"I-um, I feel the cold. I didn't feel it this bad." She met his eyes.

"Since you've been back?" He filled in her unspoken words.

"Yes. What's that mean? Am I really broken? I knew I came back with missing pieces, but I didn't think they'd ever come back. Feeling things, noticing things. For real."

"You're healin'." He said simply, and pulled his jeans and belt out from under the bed with one foot, scrounging for another shirt in his battered wooden chest, all the while looking at her. "You didn't used to feel the physical things much?"

"No. That's why I forgot to eat sometimes." She whispered. He swallowed convulsively and nodded, sliding his clothes on briskly, and then turning to her, facing her head on.

"You're healing. That's good." He said firmly. His voice dropped lower, almost threatening. "Don't fight it, Buffy. Stay in this world,with all the soddin' idiots, and the things that make you hurt." His hands cupped her cheeks. " 'Cause I'll be there with you. Fightin' with you, and lovin' you. I'll make you a little tidbit of heaven to tide you over, yeah, Pet?"

She never thought she'd leap into someone's arms. It wasn't very "slayeresque" to go all googly eyed at a vamp, and find the tenderness of his words reassuring and sweet, so much so that she'd literally throw herself into his arms and hug him. "Thanks," she said simply.

"Welcome." He croaked out through creaking ribs. "Ease up, Slayer, got plans for us, an' none of 'em involve fractures." She squeezed him all the more and he wheezed out a laugh. "What the hell. I'll heal."

Pulling back, she took his hand, and let him lead her up the stairs. Through the small windows ringing the upper level of his crypt, she could see it was still dark out, a cloudy, black night, with traces of rain on the windows.

"I'll walk you home." He reminded her, and slid into his duster, checking the pockets for his lighter, cigs, and a few assorted weapons.

"Thanks." She decided not to be her usual ungrateful, defensive self, and turned up the collar of her coat against the rain. Spike frowned and a silent curse formed on his lips. " Now what?"

"Don't even have an umbrella in here." He realized.

"Like I care?" She laughed. "Spike. Me-Slayer. Kill big bads. Not girly girl." She spoke as if speaking to a very dense child.

"You? Not a girly girl? That's a bloody laugh." He chuckled. "Only Slayer I've ever seen kill vamps in heels and mini skirts. What's that make you?"

"Stupid?" She muttered. She stumbled slightly as he seized her arm and pulled her against him as they walked through the grassy, muddy cemetery.

"You're special. An' you are a girl, Slayer, girly or not. You're my girl." He hissed the last words fiercely, and her hand gripped her arm possessively for a split second before loosening. _Not smart, mate. Good way to waken the bitch goddess, gettin' grabby without an invite._

But she didn't seem to mind, aside form a roll of her eyes and a heavenward sigh. "Okay. I'm a girl, your girl, you win. But I never patrol with an umbrella anyway, so no big."

They walked in silence for a bit, and Spike lit a cigarette, not caring if it annoyed her. She gave several loud, fake coughs, and he puffed a cloud right in her face. "I'm good, Luv, not a bleedin' saint. I've earned the right to smoke as many fags a day as I want, an' not stoppin' for you."

She was half tempted to make it an ultimatum that he quit, just to make him squirm, backtrack over his rash statement. But she wasn't going to play games now. "Just don't blow it on me."

"That was to make a point, an' I won't." He said, purposely blowing straight down now. They walked another few moments in silence.

They'd been able to spend lots of moments in silence together once they came back, but now- after the intimacy of making love to him, telling him her feelings, waking up in his bed beside him, she felt like she should speak. She caught his eye, and he slid an arm lower on her waist, sighing happily. She relaxed. With Spike, you didn't have to do the things you_ should_ do. And somehow, that made it easier to do them. _He's right. You _are_ hard to figure out._

"Thanks for walking me home." She muttered as they turned on the last street before Revello Drive.

"Anytime, Pet." Spike said easily. "While I'm here- d'you want to run up an' grab a towel? Any bits an' bobs you'd like to have at my place?"

Buffy slammed her heels in so hard that Spike actually fell forward from the recoil. "We are not a couple! Like that! I don't keep a change of clothes and my toothbrush in your_ crypt_." She spat the last word out as if it stained her tongue.

"Well, no, I didn't think we would!" He locked his shoulders back angrily, facing her. "But I don't have a towel, an' I didn't think I'd be buyin' one any time soon. I was just tryin' to let you know that you could keep some odds an' ends at my place, keep you comfy when you 'visit'!"

"Oh." She watched him angrily light a second cigarette from his first, viciously grinding the butt out under his heel.

"Yeah, well, I get the whole takin' it slow thing. Didn't think the mention of a bleedin' towel was grounds for a screamin' fit." He puffed. They said no more for a moment, standing on some poor person's front walk, having a row, then a glaring contest. "You really are my land mine." He smiled suddenly.

"I know!" She inserted her hand in his. "But you didn't leave."

"No. I won't be doin' that." He looked at her sideways. "Truce?"

"Very yes." She leaned her head into his arm. "I'll bring a towel over next time I stop by." She said quietly.

"Good." Spike whistled softly as they walked, their paces slowing with every step, neither really wanting to separate for the day, maybe for the night as well, but both knowing that for one reason or another, they would do just that.

"And you can always come over and take a hot shower if you want. When no one else is around." Buffy offered. "I know you don't mind the cold, but, hey, a nice hot shower after a night of evil whipping is awesome."

"Well, I'd love to take you up on it, Kitten, but when exactly is it that I could do it? You've got Bit, and the wiccas, plus the rest of the Scoobies poppin' in as they please."

"I guess. But, I still mean the offer. Even if it is kinda one you can't take me up on." She stroked his hand gently as it twined with hers. He squeezed her fingers gratefully in return.

"Y'know- all things considered, Luv, you might be better off havin' _me_ over." He suggested, knowing she'd never go for it, despite its logic.

"You over? You over- night?" She gasped at him.

"Knew you'd love it." He muttered sarcastically. "Well, you have creature comforts here. Proper shower. Plumbing. I don't even have a loo."

"Yeah, I noticed that." Buffy's bladder gave another twinge, and she wanted to take Spike up on his offer right away. It would be so much better to do things at her house. Showers. Warm, as in actually warm, bed, and that lovely modern convenience, indoor plumbing. And she knew it would never work. " But, no. No, we can't. It's not that I don't want to." She confessed heavily. "But we can't."

"What if we-"

"No! Spike, someone would notice."

"Silent, and can climb right into your bedroom window, Luv, done it before." He smirked.

"Yes, you can get in okay. But the- the other things." She blushed.

"When I make you cum?" He grinned wickedly, and her cheeks turned even more crimson. "When you beg me to cum with you?"

"Yes." She said breathlessly, falling helplessly into his eyes, into his sweet, treacle tones, and then catching herself. "Yes, when we're together, someone's going to overhear."

"I can be quiet, Luv. Might be quite a fun game, actually." He ran his fingers up the curve of her spine, and even through her leather coat, her shirt, and her camisole, it felt like he was snagging each and every vertebrae with a cool velvet touch. His voice dropped so low she had to tilt her ear to hear him, and that's when his lips nibbled the words against her. "Might be fun- seein' who can hold out the longest, when we're pleasing each other. Wonder if I could be quiet when you suck me into that hot little mouth." She moaned softly, and Spike tugged her along, her knees like pudding, but still pressed to him as they walked to her house. "Wonder how long you could keep quiet when I push my tongue in between those little pink lips and drink your juices?"

"Oh, Baby-" She let him kiss her, stopping and leaning on a parked car, feeling her insides puddle instantly, picturing them locked in a fierce competition of pleasuring, the added intensity of being discovered if they cried out- and knowing that inevitably, during climax, there would be some sort of noise, no matter how soft.

"You want that, don't you, Luv? Let me in Buffy, and you'll find what a good overnight guest I can be..."

"Stop. Stop!" She shook her head violently as she realized she was beginning to recline on the hood of the car, and that his fingers had left her arm and were now rubbing the wet crotch of her jeans.

"Sure you want me to?" His fingers pushed in harder, and even through the thick seams, she felt his fingers indent her wetness.

"I don't want to- but we have to." She bit her lip, and felt the sharp pain in her belly once again. _When you need the person you love inside you_, Spike's sultry voice reminded her, echoing in her mind.

"Tell me why, then?" He panted, shifting his hard cock from her, cursing the denim, and the part of him, and her, that was human, for their stupid ideas about appropriate sexual behavior. Would love to take her hard and sweetly, right now, sod whoever's watchin', and even if he couldn't hurt 'em, he'd sure as hell scare 'em if they made a single sound or gave them a half curious glance.

"Dawn."

"Dawn? Dawn'd be pleased as punch, Buffy, gotta do better than that." He goaded.

"I don't want to get her hopes up." She whispered solemnly.

Spike's face stung like he'd been slapped. He briefly wondered if all slayers had this power with words, or if you had to love them first. "Get her hopes up?" He repeated dully, eyes stinging, and not just from the leftover smoke of his burnt out cigarettes. "I see." All the death, and aging, and children... just hypotheticals. Even the love, well, she admitted that she didn't think it could last. "I see." He said with more conviction. "I agree with you, then. Wouldn't want her to think- that I was going to be more to her than jus' a babysitter. Anything long term. Close-like." They were nearing her house, and he felt his feet dragging like lead weights were on them. See her home. She does love you, and you do love her. Gotta push on, it's what you're meant to do. To never leave her, even if you can never be with her. Fully with her. His hands sought the comfort of a third smoke, and fumbled inside his duster pocket.

He looks like I cut him. Literally cut him, pained and shocked. Not cut, stabbed. Buffy watched his wrist shake as he flicked the lighter open and then drop it back into his pocket, cigarette still unlit in the corner of his mouth. "Hey, what- did I do something?" She asked hesitantly.

"Not a bloody thing." He groused, and refused to say more. They drew abreast of her house, and she jerked his shoulder hard, forcing him to still his heavy tread.

"Don't shut me out now! You always tell me everything. Even when I wish to God you'd shut up."

He almost grinned, knowing that was true. She hated some of the things he said, true things, pointed things, nasty hints, raw innuendos. And that was part of the fun of sayin' 'em, to brass her off, watch her get hot and bothered. But this wasn't for kicks. "Guess I didn't realize that you were so serious about us not havin' long together."

"Huh?" Her eyes bugged. "When did I say that? I mean, yeah, I'm not saying I see us and a white picket fence, but I believed you when you said all the things in the warehouse." Her voice softened. "That you won't go, and I won't go..."

"Then what the hell was all that about not gettin' Bit's hopes up?" He demanded, hands flying out in exasperation. "That means you don't think this is more than a little foray into the dark, til you get all nice and comfy in this world again, and then you're done with us. An' you can fake it only so long, but you draw the line at pullin' Baby Sis into the charade. You wouldn't mind hurtin' me, but not her. An' I gotta agree with you. You hurt me much as you want, I'll come back, but I draw the line at you hurtin' Bit, too. That's it, isn't it Luv? Did I guess it? You _know_ I'm a good guesser." He snarled in conclusion.

Her fists connected with his jaw and his nose in a one two jab before she could even stop herself. He fell with a spurt of blood and a curse, and she fell, too, on her knees beside him, fists grabbing his lapels and shaking him by his coat. "How could you say that? How could you think it?" She leaned down and kissed him, his stunned mouth open in protest and filled with blood. She wiped her lips angrily and pulled herself back up onto her knees, hands still pressed into his shoulders. "You are so stupid! I told you I loved you! I love you! I thought you got it! I thought you were never going to hurt me again!"

"Whoa!" Whoa, Buffy. Luv, I'm sorry." He forced her hands back and sat up, still so confused, as she poured herself sobbing into his arms.

"I love you! I do love you, and I can't get out of it, and you still think I'm playing a game?" She demanded.

"I don't know, I didn't know, Luv, what to think. When you said not to get her hopes up-"

"That doesn't mean there isn't hope, you idiot! It means it isn't going to be nice and smooth! I don't want her to think I spend a week with you, and boom, we're both magically healed, or good, ready to be the perfect couple, and we're setting up house! That you'll be there each night, and there each day." Her voice faded.

"But I could be-" He began to explain again, for the millionth bloody time, that he wasn't going to do a bunk and leave her.

"I know you can! _I'm_ the one, Spike! I'm the one who has trouble with the loving and the coupleness." She exclaimed, hands falling limply into her lap. "I'm the one."

"It's not like that. I didn't give you much reason to trust me, not at first. I'll work for this." He sat up and wiped blood from his nose and sniffed in.

"Jerk." She swatted him softly on his pectoral, with none of her previous venom. "You know the things I hate most in the world?" She mumbled, still buried on his chest.

"Am I on the list?" He asked with a hint of amusement.

"Not right now." She shook her head, and he let his lips brush the damp hair, dark with water, starting to dry and show some golden highlights. "I hate evil creatures who hurt innocent people who, for the most part, are just trying to get by. I hate men who leave once you trust them. And I hate that I fell in love with you. I hate that I can't do anything the way I'm supposed to. I can't be normal. I'm not even good at _abnormal_." She sat back on her haunches suddenly, and wiped her reddened eyes, staring him down. "So when I say I love you- it will never be a game. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, Luv." He said softly. They sat for a moment in silence, him resting on his rear, hands out flat behind him to prop himself up, and she sat listlessly on her haunches, worn out with the emotional strain of the week. "My poor girl." He whispered, straightening up, reaching for her. "It hurts you that much, Buffy? To love me?"

"Yes." She hissed. She watched his brow crease, and his jaw set.

Can't let her be in pain. What do I do? Never had to do this. God, why do I pick these loonies? Spike cleared his throat to form what he hoped, what he could choke out, would be an escape for her. He froze, having no idea what in the world to say, because he couldn't leave her, nor could you turn love off or on like some bleedin' switch in your heart.

He never got to speak. Buffy shoved him down again, ferociously. "Don't you _dare _try to be noble, Spike. Just- just don't leave. And don't stop."

"Never stop lovin' you." He assured her, gentle pushing her back, beginning to sit up. "Is there something, _anything_ I can do? I'm flummoxed, Luv, an' I don't have an idea in hell what the right thing to do is."

"Neither do I." She sighed. "I just know you have to be patient. I _can't_ rush this. You can't just jump into life with me like a normal guy and a normal girl. There's hope, Spike, but it's kind of in critical condition."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I hope you know know one thing, Buffy."

"What?"

"That you an' me? We're the right thing. I believe that." She shook her head skeptically. "Okay, 'right' isn't a good fit, but I can't think of a better one. We're- we're the best fit for one another. You see that?" She remained obstinately silent. "We're good together?" He tried again.

"I'll buy that." She gave him a half-grin.

Spike nodded once more, and lazed to his feet, pulling her up after him. "Let's get out of the side lawn then. See you to the door?"

She shook her head regretfully. "I'll say goodnight here." She whispered. Spike wrapped his strong arms around her and swept her off her feet, bending her back with a passionate, probing kiss that made her ache all over, body begging for more of him.

"I love you." He released her.

"I love you, too." She informed him gravely. "Remember it."

"Oh, don't. Don't you act like it's so easy. How many soddin' times did I tell you the same thing before you believed me?" He put his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, but I'm me." She let out a stifled giggle. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath of annoyance. "I love you. I do." Her tone sobered, and she gently kissed him as she gently caressed his face.

"I know. An' I know it hurts you to do it. Hurts me when you don't. I feel like a right selfish git, but I can't stop myself, an' think I'd die if you stopped. An' I know, I know-" He held up a protesting hand. "I'm already dead."

"I'm not planning to stop." She let him walk a few more steps with her, pausing a few feet before the front steps.

"Nor am I, Luv." He kissed her once more, and watched her slog up the stairs, shoulders bowed. Tired. Hurting. But in love. Like him, like how he'd felt. She let me into her heart. She's jus' gotta find a way to let me into her life. And then it won't hurt anymore. Not like this. "I love you!" He called, a little louder than he should have. Buffy whirled, nearly clattering off the front steps as she spun on her slick boot heels. "That's right. I love you. And you'll see, Buffy, how well we can fit together, two unrealities in a real world." He strode closer to the stairs, pausing at the bottom. She stood a few steps up, glaring at him when she wasn't looking around furtively.

"Spike!" She hissed.

"Oh, I'm leavin'. You had a good point about Bit, and not rushin', not pushin'. But I just wanted you to know something." His grin suddenly flared to life, eyes dark and gleaming, arrogance and confidence on every line of his smirking face. "I waited you out before. I can do it again."

He took the two steps in a spring, kissed her hard, leaving her breathless, and dropped back down. "Goodnight, Luv." He warbled as he strode off into the fading night.

"Goodnight, Spike." She whispered softly. He turned and smiled broadly over his shoulder, and she knew he had heard her speak.

He winked, and walked away whistling, super keen hearing also listening for the sound of her door opening and locking behind her. She's safe. An' we're gonna be okay. I love her, and I can wait, I can _make_ it work. I can do anything now that she loves me back.

_She loves me. She told me she loves me..._


	2. Chapter 2

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold._

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, are other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part II

Buffy woke up to bright sunlight tracing lines through her blinds and onto her face. "Oh. Uh-oh!" She bolted upright in bed and grabbed for her alarm clock. Unset. It was now quarter of ten, Dawn had been at school for ages. "Stupid vampire." She muttered, thinking about her passionate night with Spike, and how it had caused her to come to bed exhausted. Not that it wasn't a good night... She hugged herself once, happily, and wished he was beside her. She loved him. Of course, if he had been beside her, she would probably have started the day off by blaming him for causing her to shirk her sisterly responsibilities.

Buffy got up, shaking her head. That wasn't fair to him. You are going to have learn not to be such a harpy to him. If you do love him. If you want him to stay. She laughed softly once. She knew Spike would stay, maybe that was why she could act like he was an emotional punching bag.

"Is that what you would do to someone?" She whispered to her reflection as she slowly made her way into the bathroom. She shut the door and locked it, then turned her full attention to her mirror image. That whole episode with the modeling agency had messed with her head, she realized. She didn't always trust what she saw in the glass, and she particularly didn't trust herself right now. "Is that who you are? You hurt him, because you want to test that he won't run? Or are you just cruel enough not to care if you hurt him, since you know he'd take it?"

She was beyond thankful that her reflection didn't speak back, or ripple dissolve into something else. Hmm. Guess we're in the real and normal in here, anyway. Buffy turned on the shower. A warm shower, yes, how she appreciated that afresh this morning. Spike really should shower here. There had to be a time when only she was in the house. Maybe they could even take one together, like they had in Cliffside. She felt moisture completely unrelated to the shower suddenly drench her, and the dull throb in her middle turning into a roaring stab. I need him inside me again. I love him. I love him, and I'm going to try, I _promised_ to try.

As she scrubbed, she tried on new mental scenarios, giving herself anti-bitch lessons. She hadn't used to be so harsh. And yeah, maybe at one time Spike would have deserved all she could dish out and more, but he didn't now. And she wasn't going to live so much in the past. It wasn't a happy place.

Anti-bitch lesson number one. Stop blaming Spike. _He made me shirk my responsibilities to Dawn._ Well- no. You could've set the alarm clock. Lovesick and all dreamy, you forgot, but he can't be here to remind you- not if you won't let him in. If he'd come inside with her last night... It would have probably been a train wreck, ending with everyone she'd ever met catching her with Spike in a compromising position, her overactive imagination postulated. But in reality, (such a reality as theirs was) he probably would've helped her remember to set the alarm, or he would have heard or sensed Dawn getting up, and he would have gotten up, too. In fact, he probably would have let her sleep in, and he would have taken care of everything for Dawn by himself.

That was wrong. She wanted, _needed_ to be involved in taking care of Dawn. And Spike would help her. Because Spike loved her, and Dawn. He wasn't a good man, by the hard and fast definitions of the world, but he would unfailingly do right by the Summers' family. Having someone else staunchly in their corner gave her a warm glow. Especially when she considered what having Spike behind her could be like.

"Oh yes..." Buffy's fingers trailed down her smooth, wet stomach and found her smooth, wet folds. Oh yes. Spike behind her would probably be the best thing she'd ever physically experienced, tied for first place with Spike under her, and over her, and a thousand other positions and ways that drifted through her head._ I love that man._

Willow and Tara were sitting at the kitchen table, coffee in hand. Playing footsies underneath, Buffy noted as she entered the dining room.

"Hey! You're up." Willow beamed.

"I made blueberry muffins." Tara pushed a basket towards her.

"Ohh, yummy. I'm starving." Buffy fell ravenously on the muffins and Willow poured her a mug of coffee as well. Tara and Willow exchanged a thrilled glance. One of the "Oh, look, Buffy's doing something human" glances that drove her crazy. "Shouldn't you guys be at class?" She realized as she took her first bite.

"Professor cancelled mine." Willow said with a severely disappointed look.

"I'm about to leave." Tara glanced at the clock.

"Hey, guys, I am _so_ sorry about this morning. Did Dawn get to school okay? I was just so- wiped out." For wiped out, read mentally and physically exhausted from making love to a vampire with superhuman stamina and a really irritating way of forcing you to confront your feelings, good or bad, Buffy thought ruefully.

"Oh, yeah, everything went fine. She even peeked in on you, and said you didn't even move. You must've been zonked. A lot of vampire badness last night?" Willow asked.

"Uhhh- yeah. Yeah, actually, Spike and I took out an even dozen in the warehouse district."

"You and Spike?" Tara rose from the table, a soft smile on her lips.

"Well, Dawn and Willow went all overprotective on me yesterday, so I figured if I ran into him, he could patrol with me." Buffy replied carelessly.

"Good. Y-you know he's really, really helpful. When he wants to be." Tara bustled around nervously. She didn't quite meet Buffy's eye when she spoke, and both of the women still at the table could tell that she was uneasy about whatever she wanted to say, as Tara barely ever stuttered these days. "D-Dawn just loves him."

"I know she does. He's changed." Buffy said gently. Tara put her canvas messenger bag on over her long flowing print dress and finally stood still. "Do you think someone bad- bad inside- can ever change to be good?" Buffy began her tentative journey with these two. The most understanding of her friends. If she was fooling herself, they'd tell her. If she was making a mistake, they'd try to stop her. And if she refused to be stopped, she figured they'd worry, but go along with her.

"I don't know." Willow nibbled her muffin hesitantly.

"I think so." Tara answered with conviction. "I spent my whole life being told how evil I was. Being told I was part demon."

"I really don't like your father." Willow muttered into her mug. Tara stroked her lover's shoulders gently.

"But you aren't a demon, and Spike is." Buffy tried to keep her voice casual, interested. I'm a slayer, I research demon behavior all the time. No particular interest in this one vampire. One incredibly hot, sexy, genuinely supportive vampire.

"No, he just_ has_ a demon. I think Spike's pretty human. Somehow Spike isn't like other vampires. Even without a soul, he decides to do the right thing- a lot." Tara's eyes locked onto Buffy's and penetrated them. "I spent my life being told I could never do anything good. That I would have to be controlled. And I fought against it. Not much of a fight, but still, I tried to be good. I think it's what you believe. If you believe you can be good, and you try hard, maybe you can be."

Buffy blinked, shaken by Tara's pointed gaze and strong words. She stared down at her hands, unseeing as the two girlfriends kissed goodbye for the day. Buffy waved silently, but with a smile, and then she and Willow resumed sitting at the table, food suddenly losing its interest.

"You've got one smart honey, Will."

"I know." Willow grinned proudly.

"She's really- insightful." Buffy suddenly threw her a a sharp look. "Do she and Spike get along really well?"

"Umm- actually- probably. Spike hasn't been big on talking to us in depth since we- uh-" Willow blushed. "Did I mention today how I'm really,_ really_ sorry about that whole resurrection thingy?"

"No, but it's okay." Buffy managed a weak smile.

"Why the curiosity about Spike? And goodness in the badness?"

"Just need to know. The world isn't black and white anymore. It hasn't been black and white since Angel."

"Angel has a soul." Willow gently reminded her, taking her friend's hand as it lay on the table.

"I know. I know he does. And I know Spike doesn't." Buffy stared down at the crumbs on her napkin, and idly pushed a blueberry around with one fingertip. "Willow? Do you remember what Angel was like without a soul?"

"I try hard not to." Willow shuddered.

"He went wild. He tried to hurt everything and everyone I loved as much as he could. And he- he played with us. With our minds, making it hurt as much as possible."

"But you saved him, Buffy. He's better now, he's-"

"I'm not worried about him, Willow. I'm just thinking. You know how Spike doesn't have a soul? Why did he take care of Dawn, then? Why didn't he betray us when Glory had him?"

" 'Cause he knew you'd kill him?" Willow squinted.

"He didn't know that Glory _wouldn't_ kill him if he didn't tell. And taking care of Dawn- I was already dead." She ignored Willow's twitch and plowed on. "He did it because he wanted to do it."

"He did it because he's in love with you." Willow added to the reasoning, and then clapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry. I meant icky Spike obsession love, not _love _love."

"If he can be good without a soul, why can't he love without a soul?" Buffy pressed. Willow's eyes went wide as half dollars and Buffy scrambled to cover the eagerness behind her words. "I just want to know. It's my job. To know vampires. Especially ones who hang with us."

"I get that. But I don't know. I guess it depends on what you think love is."

"Love is when they never leave you." Buffy whispered.

Willow slid her chair closer, and put her arm around Buffy's thin, toned shoulders. "Then maybe he really loves you. Because he never left you. Not even when you left us." Buffy flashed her a grateful smile before allowing her head to slump onto Willow's shoulder. "The only thing is, Buffy, what you're going to do about it."

"I know. I don't know." She forced her head back up and sighed. "Stupid life. Complicated, stupid life." She savagely stabbed her butter knife into an unsuspecting muffin, speared it, and pulled it back to her napkin. Willow let out a small, sad noise through her slightly parted lips, and Buffy sighed again, this one a sigh of acceptance. "Hey. I'm here. And I'm happy to see you guys. There's an upside to the stupidness."

"You don't have to figure everything out today. Especially not big, big things like good and evil, and love, and souls, and stuff. You can start small. Like, what are you going to do for the rest of your life?"

Buffy laughed loudly. "That's small?"

"Compared to love and the governing forces of our inner natures, yeah." Willow teased.

"Fine, by that logic, I'll start small. Number one plan- be a better sister. Get up on time. Make lunch, do the whole 'parent' thing."

"No one minded that you slept in. You work nights! You need to sleep sometime!" Willow reassured passionately.

"Well, I'm gonna try to do better anyway. For Dawn."

"What about for Buffy?"

"I need to pay the bills. But I wanna go to school." Buffy looked shocked. "Did I say that? Really?"

"It's not so weird. You had to give up courses, or the whole semester, for two years in a row. I don't think it's so strange to want a little normal, scholastically challenging stuff in your life."

"But how am I gonna pay for it? For any of this?" She pointed to the stack of pink and yellow overdue bill notices on the hall table.

"Work study? Financial aid? I'll help you do the applications. I'll do the applications, you just show up for the interviews."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask. I offered. Besides, I want to help. And I don't have class until 1:00 now. I'm gonna be really bored for a couple hours if you don't let me do this."

"Thanks, Willow." Buffy squeezed her friend's hand. "If that doesn't work- I need money fast. The modeling money is gonna keep us going for a couple months, but after that..."

"You wanna work at the Magic Box?"

"No! No, no, no to the end of eternity. Or until no one else will hire me. I think I'll put my name in at some restaurants. The Espresso Pump. Maybe the Bronze needs a waitress. That'd be cool."

"That's at night, Buffy." Willow reminded her.

"Oh. Right. Well, diners, and fast food places then."

"Buffy- greasy diners and fast food places?" Willow wrinkled her nose.

"I don't have a lot of choices, Willow." Buffy pushed up from the table, a feeling of hopelessness and exhaustion overwhelming her. This is going to be my life. I'll never get a good job, 'cause I'll never finish college, 'cause something bad will always happen mid way through the year. I'll have to work minimum wage jobs forever, because I need to work at night killing bad things. "I'm gonna go get another couple hours of sleep." She whispered with a feeble smile, leaving her friend staring after her.

She collapsed onto her bed. How am I gonna put Dawn through college? How am I gonna put _me_ through college? How am I gonna do any of this? Working at Sid's Diner until I'm ready for social security? Slayers don't live that long anyway...

Buffy woke up at 3:00, huddled to her pillow, spooning it against her. If she closed her eyes again, maybe she could go back to sleep and the pillow would morph back into Spike's comforting coolness.

But, no joy. She forced herself back up, and down the quiet stairs, into the empty house. See? Spike could totally be here now. No one else is around. Although, Dawn _will_ be in about 10 minutes. Dawn would think it was Christmas to come home and find Spike here, with me. Then she'd expect it to keep happening, and I can't promise that. Yet.

The table held a stack of papers, all filled out. Financial aid, work study, grant applications, course applications, part time student applications. And a note. "Bronze? at 8? Love, Wills."

That might be fun, Buffy decided. And the Bronze almost always had at least one baddie waiting to get screw up and get killed, so it would kinda be like patrolling. Diet patrolling. Patrolling lite. The phone rang and she walked to it, still looking at the mass of papers, flipping through them as she went. "Hello, Applications Residence." She answered absently.

"Buffy?" Dawn asked uncertainly.

"Dawn? Dawn, aren't you supposed to be home by now?"

"Xander got off of work early, and he picked me up as I was waiting for the bus. I'm at the Magic Box. Is that okay? Xander can run me home, he just wanted to see Anya first. You know- in love people."

Yeah, she knew. Her lower half felt absolutely bereft by this time. "That's fine. I have to run to the bank anyway." Buffy realized. The modeling money had to go in, or else the checks couldn't go out. Taking the portable phone with her as she climbed the stairs to grab her purse, she continued to talk to her sister. "I'll meet you there in a hour. Or, um, maybe a couple? I have to drop off some applications, too."

"That's fine. I have math homework, and Willow's gonna come over soon and help me with it."

"You're sure you don't mind staying there for a little bit? I can help you with your homework, Dawn. I- well, I suck at math, but I could try."

"It's okay, really. Thanks for wanting to. I'll see you soon."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Buffy." And her sister was warmed by the smile evident in her voice.

Buffy stuffed the papers in her bag and shouldered it, fingers tucked firmly around the bulging envelope in her purse, hand also brushing the pad of hotel stationary where an unfinished letter to Spike taunted her. You never were good with words, unless it was life or death. Love wasn't that important anymore, she guessed. I guess the right words don't matter now. You told him. And he hasn't left. Yet.

With a resolute sigh, she hustled to the campus.

Spike hummed as he walked through the sewers under the main streets of Sunnydale. Humming turned into head banging and full out air guitar antics. Soon he was singing, loudly, not caring if he awakened every demon in the freakin' underground. _"This is not a love song! I'm adaptable, and I like my role. I'm getting better and better,_

_and I have a new goal! I'm changing my ways, where money applies. This is not a love song!"_

"Eat your heart out, Lydon." Spike muttered, and hoisted himself up through the grate in the alley way nearest the bank. Still a bit bright out today, he thought as he pushed quickly behind a stack of bins and boxes. Wait for the sun to get behind a cloud before he went into the bank. He'd have a smoke. Flicking the lighter into flame, he inhaled deeply- catching the most delectable scent in the universe as well as a lungful of noxious nicotine. Slayer. His Slayer, and even after all her bathing, still smelling faintly of sex to him. Her pulse and her heartbeat getting stronger each step, coming to him, or at least towards him. He gauged the sun, the clouds, her footsteps- and lunged.

"Hey!" Buffy felt her shoulders seized, and shouted, hands going from normal girl mode, to lethal mode. "Hands off!" She rounded, fists flying, and senses crying conflicting messages of "Vampire, kill!" and "God, yes, that's what I wanted!". "Spike!" She cried with a mixture of delight and exasperation, realizing that only he could give her so many confusing signals at once.

"Hi, Luv." He whispered, tossing the cigarette away so he could kiss her unhindered. "Surprised to see me?"

"Yeah, but God knows why. You always turn up where you're not expected." She gave him a half-grin, and slowly allowed him to pull her into his arms.

"I wasn't expectin' to see you either, but so glad I did." He murmured before kissing.

He pushed her gently into the wall, pressing his mouth to hers, hands roaming all over her. He's like an animal. So passionate- God, so hard! So hard, here, now, in the shadows, in the alley behind her bank- "Why are you at the bank?" She unhooked herself from his embrace and peered at him critically.

"What's that?" He blinked in confusion. Why did she have that irritatin' habit of interrupting the things he was livin' for, or unlivin' for?

"Why are you outside my bank?" She repeated suspiciously.

"Oh, your bank is it? Here I thought it was First National of Sunnydale, didn't realize it belonged to _you_."

"Oh, goody, you're feeling sarcastic." Buffy sighed.

"Wasn't 'til you went all possessive. Over a building, yet. Got much better things for you to possess, Luv." He positioned her body to his again, kissing her hungrily, making her eyes roll up and forget all her questions- for a moment.

"The bank, Spike." Buffy mustered her will, and bowed to her curiosity.

"Is that all you can think about when I'm holdin' you?" He said, sounding annoyed.

"Oh no." Buffy looked at him sorrowfully. "You weren't going to rob it, were you? Please tell me you weren't."

"Bloody hell, Slayer!" Spike stopped trying to cadge her back into his arms, shoving his hands out defensively. "No, I wasn't tryin' to rob your soddin' bank! First off, why rob a bank in daylight, when I could do it at night with no one about, an' not risk turning into vamp flambé when I make my get away? Second off, why when I've just earned all that lovely packet from the Mrs. Evil and Co., do you think I need more lolly? Thirdly, how'm I s'posed to rob the place when I can't even raise my hand, raise a gun, even a _pretend_ gun without gettin' a buggerin' migraine? And lastly, I don't steal big stuff, 'cause it wouldn't be okay with you."

"Are you done?" Buffy asked with eyes blazing, but silently berating herself. All of those were excellent reasons. But did she ever consider them without being shown? Not unless it was too late. I could win the gold medal in the conclusion high-jump.

"Yeah, I'm done." Spike kicked a packing crate violently, shattering it. Stupid bint. Said she loves me, but guess she won't trust me for a long while yet. An' if I tell her why I'm really here, she'll jus' get mad. Love's bitch, that's me.

"I- I didn't think. You know me. I'm action girl. Not big with the thinking."

Spike paused, taken aback by her less than defensive attitude. "That's me, too, Luv." Spike cracked a smile.

"But you _do_ steal." She pointed out rationally.

"Well, hullo, vampire! Not what'd you call 'good', though God knows, I'm doin' my bloody best! I can't work a job, an' I can't kill to get what I need. I do a bit of 'survival stealin' '. I don't nick much, an' just what I need. Now, get that through your 'specially thick skull." He snarled.

"What am I supposed to think, you demented fashion victim?" Buffy smacked his arm, but not with much force. "That you waltzed in and opened a savings account? That you're here to check on the mortgage payments for your crypt?"

"Y'know what? You get mad at me when I'm nice, you get mad when I'm not, I'm startin' to think you can't tell the difference. You wanna know so bad? Here!" Spike thrust open his coat, heart aching to see that she still winced when he moved suddenly, like he'd attack her,_ her_, the one he loved with all that he had left to love with. He ripped out two envelopes, looked at one, thrust it back inside, pushing the other one into her hand. "Open it. Go on." He jammed his hands into the loops of his jeans, awaiting the onslaught.

Buffy slid it open nervously and looked inside. Two thick stacks of notes, divided by a scrap of paper, easily recognizable as the back of an envelope, and around each stack, a smaller scrap of paper, one labeled "B" and one labeled "N". "What is this? Spike?"

"You know." He muttered.

"I don't, or I wouldn't ask. I hate looking stupid in front of you." She grumbled, staring hard at the money in her hands, as if she could make herself understand.

"Oi!" Hand under her chin, making her look at him, sharp blue eyes softening. "You're brilliant to me. Bloody brilliant, an' I love you." His voice faded to an indecipherable mumbling. "That's why I- I was- for - an' account."

"What?" She moved closer to him, hand on his arm, this time searching out his eyes, straining to catch his words.

"That's why I took half the money, an' I was puttin' half in the bank for you, and half into Niblet's savings."

"You were what?" Voice incredulous and peering back into the envelope.

"The money! I kept half. I took the other half, here," He reached over and plucked up the envelope and waved it in front of her eyes, "and I took half of that," he pulled out one packet, labeled with a letter B, "for you, and the other half for Niblet's savings account." He tapped the piece of paper marked with an N, speaking slowly and patiently.

"Why?" She whispered in equal parts moved and resentful, damn her pride.

" 'Cause I don't need much, do I, Pet?" He down played his gift. "No rent, no school fees, no need for new clothes, not to speak of. So- I jus' thought I'd give it to you so it could be more useful. An' don't gimme any guff, Slayer, I wasn't tryin' to earn points with you, wasn't even gonna _tell _you, hoped you'd jus' think you made an error in your addin' up or something like that." He turned abruptly away, striding off. The money was in her hands, and now that she knew what he was up to, no way she'd let him past her to the front door of the soddin' bank. But at least the money was hers now, the best he could hope for.

"Spike!" She ran the few steps after him, grabbing his elbow. "Wait." He turned his head, not his body, glancing back at her. "Thank you. This is- so sweet. And it _is _really helpful. And- I don't love you for doing it. But I do appreciate it." She blushed and tacked on, "I love you anyway, the money's just-" She swallowed. What did she have to act proud about, in front of him? He had pride, but he didn't act like he was living large, she needn't be ashamed that things were tight right now. "The money's just really, _really _helpful."

"I'm glad, Pet." He laughed in relief. "Never do know with you, Buffy, if you're gonna take my head off or kiss me when I try to help you."

"This time it's a kiss." She grinned broadly and kissed his smiling mouth. "C'mon. Walk in with me?" His eyebrows arched and he fell into step beside her. "Do you mind if I don't tell the others?" She asked timidly, hating herself for even consulting him. Huh. Guess I'm starting to care what happens to his feelings. That's a pretty decent human being emotion. Go me.

"Of course not! Although, all of them know about Dawn's account."

"They do?" Buffy cried, attracting stares as they entered the lobby of the bank. She lowered her voice, "The guys know about you putting money in her account?"

"Well, I don't know if they know how _much_ I've been puttin' in..." Buffy looked at him with mounting gratitude, and it made him both proud and uneasy. "It wasn't my idea. Anya's the money mind in your little group. She gives me a run for- well, no pun intended." Spike followed her to the counter, well aware that she was constantly scanning, probably praying no one she even remotely knew saw the two of them together. "Anya set up the account. I just helped Dawn get the money to put in it. And put in a bit myself, when I've got it."

"Uhh, deposit for Dawn Summers account?" Buffy handed the clerk half of the money from Spike's envelope.

"Dawn Summers. Address or account number?" The clerk asked for verification. Buffy supplied her address, and then put her money, plus Spike's contribution, in her own account, and took the receipts.

"Here, Luv, lemme take that to give to Dawn." Spike held his hand out for the receipt as they left. Which he knew instantly was a mistake, because she decided to examine it instead. "Spike! How much have you been putting in?" She cried.

"Not much."

"There's a lot in there." She waved the receipt again, following him to the shady side of the street, pressing against him to keep close by in the shadows.

"Mainly her doin'." Spike also knew that was the wrong thing to say, already anticipating her next question.

"Is she babysitting?"

"Poker." He brazened it out, bracing and holding his ground as she suddenly slammed into him, arm across his throat. "Oooh, Kitten, ready to play?" He smirked through his nerves, legitimately excited by her nearness, the pounding of her blood when she got defensive.

"You taught my little sister to play for _money_? Really play for money? To gamble? All this time I thought the two of you had some inside joke going! She could get kicked out of school! She could get suspended. She could get beat up!" Buffy hissed savagely.

"No, no, an' no again. She doesn't play except in the cafeteria or outside of school, she doesn't cheat, she doesn't need to, she learned from me, can read a person like a book. An' Bit's got a vicious set of lungs and legs on her. She'd kick the livin' crap out of anyone before they could get a swing out." Spike pried her hands off of him gently. "An' I didn't encourage it. She was gonna do it anyway, all I did was teach her to be good at it."

Buffy relented slightly. "She did it 'cause she saw you do it." Buffy huffed and walked away slowly. Spike easily caught up to her.

"She an' I played cards every night, or every day, Buffy. An' she's a smart kid. I never told her about the worst things I've done. Tellin' her I gamble doesn't even scratch the surface. If gambling's the worst I do, well, Summers, I'm a hell of a lot better than a million humans I can think of." Spike slammed his mouth shut angrily. He was bloody sick of her violent mood swings. I love you, I'm furious at you, all in the same soddin' breath. Course, he did do things to earn both her love, and her anger, if he was honest. But damned if he'd apologize for _this_.

Am I mad at him because my little sister looks up to him more than me? Or am I mad that she would have looked up to me if I hadn't kept pushing her away? "Is that how you get by?" She finally asked.

"Partially. I nick what I need, if I can't get it any other way. The rest is cards." He rounded on her, eyes searing her. "Before you go gettin' high an' mighty on me, I don't have a lot of options, do I? I play for kittens when I play demons. Don't ask what for, Slayer, but kittens are worth a pint a piece in Willy's books. And, yes, I do play humans. There's a bar near the docks, real seedy place, and I play for cash, when I need it. I don't even have to cheat. All I have to do is watch their eyes shift, listen to the pulse speed, smell the sweat start to bead up." Spike licked his lips experimentally, as if remembering a forgotten taste. "Closest thing to huntin' a human I'm gonna get, Slayer, an' I don't do it for fun anymore. It's survival. Be glad I'm not leavin' a trail of bodies, jus' grown men who can't bluff." Spike stopped talking, looking sickened. "I am so damn tired of you goin' round an' round with me, Luv. I need a drink."

She still walked beside him, noting the dusk falling, knowing she had to get to Dawn soon. So Spike wasn't "good". He was clearly trying to do as little damage and cause as little pain as possible. That was huge. Huge for him. And then, when he did get some money, he was giving plenty of it back to her family. "Hey. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I went off on you, okay?"

"You? Apologizin' to me? Hell's lookin' for winter coats and ice skates, Pet." He teased, anger melting away when she looked at him with those pretty green eyes, and her smile, pink lips so afraid to curve all the way up, show she might feel something good when she was with him. But when those lips finally did crease, the corners ticking up, he felt like sunshine was hitting him all over.

"But you have to stop. Stop putting money in the bank for us. You keep the money you win. Then you won't need to gamble so often."

"No deal." He shook his head obstinately.

"Why?"

"I said so." He answered stubbornly.

"You make me crazy, you know?" She sighed.

"Mutual." He grinned broadly, eyes taking in her sudden quick steps, her "I'm mad" walk. "Here, listen. We compromise. Couples need to learn to compromise, right?"

"Right. Hey! No coupleness!"

"Oh, lie to yourself some more, Pet. You love me, an' I love you. We work together, and we play together." He rolled the word 'play' off his tongue with a sinful twitch that made her shiver. "That's a couple, call it whatever the hell you like."

"What's your compromise?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"I put in less. Or I pay it right to whatever you tell me to."

"No! I don't need it. I'm getting a job. I just dropped off a bunch of applications at the college for work study and financial aid. And if that doesn't work out, I'll get a job somewhere else. Double Meat Palace or someplace with a day shift. I have to do this myself." She said, forcing the words out. Spike nodded slowly.

"But I'm tryin' to look after you. An' Bit. I'll patrol every night, I'll look after Dawn as much as you'd like, but that's not enough for me. I can do more, and I'll damn well do it." He said fiercely.

"Put the money in her account then. Not mine." She watched the acceptance slowly replace the look of protest, and took his arm, sealing the happier expression fully.

"Just as you say, Luv." They were about a block from the Magic Box, and they paused as one. "Patrol tonight?"

"Yeah. Late patrol though. Willow and I are gonna go to the Bronze tonight."

"Oh. Good. That's good, go an' have a bit of fun. I'll stop by your place, catch up with Dawn." He smiled contentedly, and then wickedly. "Or I could go down to the bar. Gettin' low on cash."

"Whatever. That's cool." Buffy ignored his jibe, preferring to believe he was joking about the bar. "So, patrol, umm. Meet you back at my house? If you're visiting Dawn anyway?"

"Right-o." He whistled tunelessly as they resumed walking, heading slowly, much more slowly, to the Magic Box, where the ones who sat in judgement waited. "I'm gonna stop in the shop, okay with you? Need some Burba weed."

"Paying for it tonight?" She blushed suddenly, hearing a dirty undercurrent that she hadn't even intended.

"More like a trade." He purred in her ear. "But the Burba weed, yeah, I'll pay for it. This time."

"Oh. Good. Good." She breathed more deeply. "So, after the Bronze?"

"Yeah, after the Bronze."

"I never got to buy you those onion rings. When we were in Cliffside."

"No worries." He waved it away, a niggling suspicion forming.

"The Bronze has that onion thing." An unspoken offer in her voice.

"Buffy, d'you want me to come with you to the Bronze tonight?"

"No!" Buffy scoffed. "Unless you want to. I mean, I don't care if you do."

"Well, I don't wanna leave Niblet on her own. And it'd hardly be a date if she was along."

"We do _not _date." Buffy reminded him with a hiss.

"So Bit can come?"

"Uh, sure. Unless she has homework."

"I'll help her with it." Spike strode ahead of Buffy into the Magic Box, leaving her staring after him.

"He's so weird." She sighed and pushed in after him.

Dawn, Tara, and Willow were crowded over a math book, Giles was unpacking boxes, and Anya was ringing up customers with a huge smile on her face. Xander was hauling unknown bottles and bags up from the the basement.

"Buffy, so glad you're here. I want you to have a look at this manuscript about the Melissites." Giles greeted her.

"Nice to see you, too." Buffy smiled ruefully, and patted Dawn's shoulder as she passed her.

"Right, precipitous of me. Have you had a good day?"

"Yeah, got a lot done." Buffy smiled at Willow, who beamed back.

"Hi, Niblet. Red, Tara." Spike stroked Dawn's hair once, and nodded to the two women beside her. "You got much homework?"

"Geometry and then five history questions."

"I'm your man for history." Spike grinned, and plopped down at the table next to her. Buffy watched them silently. How had she never noticed how close the two of them were? Well, not close, but at ease. She knew they were close, but the two of them moved like they'd lived together for years. His hand was already reaching for her text book before she could pass it to him. She pulled a pencil from behind her ear at the same instant he stuck his hand out to her, and neither of them even spoke to coordinate their movements.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" Xander seemed less than pleased to see him, but everyone else was indifferent.

"Burba weed. Ring me up six ounces?" He answered Xander and then turned his head to Anya.

"Eight ounce bags, Spike." She replied matter-of-factly.

"That'll have to do me, I s'pose. Niblet, which five questions?"

"One through four and the essay question at the bottom."

"Are you doing her homework for her?" Buffy demanded loudly, startling Giles as he stood behind her, making him clutch his sandstone wisdom carving as he began to let it fall.

"Of course he isn't!" Dawn said sharply.

"I'm readin' the soddin' text book, make sure I can ask the right questions to help her think of the answers she needs." Spike replied, less angrily than he had wanted to. He was dead flattered that Niblet stuck up for him in front of everyone.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Buffy mumbled, and slunk off, chastised. Dawn and Spike exchanged a look.

"If you're slinking off in shame, would you get me some Burba weed from the basement?" Anya called brightly.

"Anya!" Willow, Xander, and Giles rebuked her as one. Dawn and Spike exchanged another look, and wordlessly Spike melted into the darkness of the shelves, making his way to the basement.

"Buffy?" Spike called softly.

"Nice to know you don't sneak up on me every time." She popped out right in front of him, causing him to rock back on his heels. "Got you for once."

"Oh, you've gotten me plenty." He smiled. "Here. Burba weed's on the top shelf." Spike pushed gently past her and stretched high up to reach the glass jars of the potent smelling herb.

Buffy watched the muscles in his chest flex as he leaned close to her and reached above her head, a front row seat to the show as she stood in front of him. Rippling waves of perfect pale muscle under that thin black shirt, just aching for her to touch them. Spike's aching for me. I can tell. I know it. And I like it.

"You wanna skip the Bronze, Luv? You an' me could take Bit home. Supper. Movie. _Sleepover_." The last word a suggestive wisp in her ear that somehow managed to tickle her core instead.

A longing sigh escaped her. "We can't."

"Tell me why not? I can be quiet, Pet. Slip out the front, come in round the back- talkin' about the house, Luv, in case that shocked expression means you think I'm talkin' dirty." She blushed and he continued. "Slip in the through the kitchen once Bit's in bed, an' then up to your room." He slid his hands slowly down to her waist, placing the jar on another shelf at shoulder height. "Think I can keep you quiet. Hard to make noise when your mouth is full."

"Stop. Stop talking like that. Here." She whispered, weakening. "You know why we can't. And as for being quiet, the only thing that'd ever keep you quiet is the threat of death or a heavy gag."

"I don't much care for that type of play, but if you fancy it-"

"No! No, none of that. Never that." Buffy spat, looking absolutely disgusted and injured.

"Precious, I'm makin' a joke." Spike soothed immediately.

"How could you joke? Is that some type of demon thing?" She looked horrified.

"No. It's some kind of sex play thing. Humans, demons, maybe even gods, how would I know? But I'm not for that. I made a joke. A stupid joke."

"I'm not like that. I wouldn't do that." She quivered against him suddenly. "I'm not bad. I'm not." Freaked out. Because she could cross lines. She was sleeping with a vampire, without a soul, and she was in love with him. How far was the leap from loving something impure to becoming something impure?

"No, Sweetheart, you're not. You're the best person I know. You aren't perfect, Buffy, but if my life depended on it, an' they asked me to name one person I believed was honestly good, honestly kind- I'd say you every time."

"You would?" Buffy looked up at him with a watery smile. "Spike? How can I ever be good- if I love you?"

Spike paused, taken aback. He tried not to, but it was easy to forget the endless struggles that went on behind the youthful face. "You can love me- _because_ you're good. You have that something inside that makes you love the unlovable. Someone like me." He smiled bravely and traced her cheek. "Never been loved, properly loved, 'til you. Funny, init? Someone so old, and never been truly loved back, by someone with a soul, someone with the heart they can use?"

That was so sad, and yet he said it so simply, so honestly. Accepting of it. "I can't even love you the right way. I'm sorry, Baby. I'm trying." She suddenly broke down and soft mewls of sadness escaped her, along with frustrated tears.

"Shh. I know you are. And I want your love, however you give it. To me, it's still the best thing I've ever felt. Chin up, Luv." He roughly dried her tears with the hem of his shirt.

"And I think you deserve better than that. I'm trying. I will try." She said with heartfelt conviction.

"Don't push yourself. I'm not leavin'. I'm waitin' for you, remember?"

"Thank you." She whispered, and his mouth descended sweetly onto hers.

"Can you bring me some birch sap and ylang-ylang essence?" Anya's voice called down the stairs, shattering the tender moment.

"What's taking you so long?" Xander hollered.

"You reorganized the shelves again, didn't you? Giles, you really need to stop doing that." Anya criticized the store owner who responded with some frustrated comments regarding store ownership and her complete inability to organize anything outside of the contents of the till.

The secretly involved pair quickly gathered the requested items and raced upstairs, Buffy going first, appearing casually, as if she'd been doing nothing out of the ordinary. Spike appeared a few minutes later, after pocketing a few more ounces of Burba, and a bottle of aromatherapeutic shampoo. To keep in his crypt, something soft and prettily scented for Buffy when she came to call. Bugger. He hoped she remembered about the towel, he'd lost his chance to remind her now.

"Oh, good, you're here. I need help with this section on Napoleon." Dawn beckoned Spike over. "What's up?" She whispered as her trusted friend sat beside her.

"Sis jus' needed a minute to get off her high horse an' back on solid ground." Spike said easily. And that was all he would say.

"Buffster, are you Bronzing with us?" Xander put an arm around her shoulders as she stared unseeingly at the manuscript Giles had pressed upon her.

"Yeah. Sounds fun. We haven't all been out together much, lately." Kind of hard to socialize when I felt sick at the sight of you, Buffy thought bitterly. But she was going to have to move past that. "For a little bit, anyway. Then I have to patrol. Dawn, you can come if you get your homework done."

"What? I can?" She squealed, and everyone but Spike stared at Buffy as if she'd lost her mind.

"Buffy, the Bronze-"

"Is a place where we hung out since we were her age, and we didn't have someone older with us to prevent us from being perv chow." Buffy pointed out.

"I'm almost done!" Dawn began scribbling faster in her notebook, and Spike leaned back in his chair. He supposed he should make his exit soon, and then casually show up. He couldn't make it seem like a coincidental meeting, now that Buffy had announced the evening's plan in front of him. He could try to make it seem like a quick pass through, avoid the group as much as possible.

"I'm gonna be on my way. See you lot around." He waved casually with a tight smile, and set off into the deepening twilight.

Be brave, be brave, be brave. "Spike!" Buffy called, much more explosively than she had intended to. He turned to her, face carefully impassive. "I owe you some onion rings. Stop by the Bronze if you want me to pay up, 'cause the offer ends tonight."

"I'll think about it." Spike smirked, trying not to sound too eager.

"Please come!" Dawn looked at him with pleading puppy eyes.

"Alright, Niblet, I'll be there. An' I owe you a coke, Slayer, so I'll catch up to you." He waved again, then disappeared, melting into the darkness.

The group went to their homes shortly after that. Giles rejected the offer Willow hesitantly extended him, saying he preferred the quiet to the pulsations of the Bronze, for tonight anyway. He sent Anya home early, telling the money-fixated clerk that he would mind the store so she could go spend time with her groom-to-be.

Dawn was all giggly as she got ready for a night out with the grown ups, her favorite people in the world. "Do I look grown up? Do you think any college boys will ask me to dance?"

"You look beautiful, Sweetie." Tara finished curling her hair into long waves, and then gave the teen a little shove out the door of the bathroom. "Go check on your sister. Willow and I will be right down."

"Buffy?" Dawn tapped gently on the bedroom door.

"Yeah?" Buffy knocked over a bunch of items on her dresser as she jumped guiltily. She was trying to look nice but undate-like. And she was failing. Do I always dress like a slut bomb? What is with all the backless shirts? What's with the tank tops? I know it's hot here, but geez, not like I have a booming bust to show off. I've got the cute legs, and all my skirts are long. Damn fashion sense.

"Can I come in?" Dawn smiled to herself as she heard the clattering of glass on wood.

"Uhhh, sure." Buffy hastily jammed her much folded towel into her large shoulder bag, along with her toothbrush and deodorant. "Hi!" She chirped innocently.

"Hi." Dawn folded her arms and looked at her sister. "Seriously? You're going to the Bronze in jeans and that lame sweater?"

"What's wrong with my outfit?" Buffy asked with a pout.

"Spike's going to be there. You should look nice."

"I _do_ look nice!" Buffy protested.

"Extra nice. Date nice."

"I do not date! Spike and I are not going on a _date_!" Buffy hissed waspishly.

"Whatever. You'll be there, he'll be there, it's a club, food and soda is happening. It sounds like a date."

"Well, when you see just how much I can ignore him, you won't say that." Buffy laughed, a short harsh bark.

"Why would you ignore him? He's cute, he loves you, and he helps you." Dawn knitted her brows together. "I thought he was your significant other?"

"I know. I know." Buffy sighed. "No ignoring. You're right, that wouldn't be cool. But don't expect me to dance with him, or have conversations with him. We'll just be hanging together, civilly, eating and drinking. And stop smirking at me! You're going to give us away, and no one else knows."

Dawn rolled her eyes. For a Slayer with super powers, her sister was so dumb sometimes. All the girls knew _something_ was up, even if they weren't sure of the details. Xander and Giles probably suspected, but they would be in denial for a long time, or until Buffy kissed Spike right under their noses. "Fine. Mutual civility and munchies. Can you please lose the sweater? How about-" Dawn dug through her sister's closet. "This one!" She pulled out a sparkly, pink, tight tube top.

"Eww, no."

"With something over it, I'm not stupid." Dawn protested. Buffy stubbornly shook her head. Dawn sighed and pulled out a tight black top with an empire waist. "This'll make your boobs look bigger."

"Why is everyone obsessed with making me look bigger on top?"

"I don't think anyone is obsessed with it, I was just pointing it out." Dawn sat heavily on the edge of her sister's bed. "I give up. Show up in the sweater. I know Spike. He'll still think you're the most beautiful girl in the room."

Buffy blushed. Yeah, he would. And then she frowned at her sister's wistful tone. "You have a crush on him, don't you?"

"No, dummy, I _had_ a crush on him. Now I like him like you like Xander. Brotherly. And I'd be totally thrilled if he were more to you than just some random vampire you beat up half the time, and make goo goo eyes at the other half."

"I do not make goo goo eyes! I don't even have the _ability _to make eyes, any kind of eyes, except maybe mean, threaten-y eyes!" Buffy denied in exasperation.

"For Spike, it's a turn on." Dawn giggled wickedly, and left her sister staring after her.

Buffy tore out of her sweater and into the tank top, throwing a filmy red shirt over it, and then walked dazedly into the hallway, bumping into Tara and Willow. The lovers stopped their flirtatious giggling and hand-holding to stare at her.

"What's wrong?" Willow asked with wide eyes.

"Do either of you think Dawn is spending just a_ little _too much time with, oh, I don't know, _Spike_?"

"No." Tara said quickly. "No, I think she spends just enough time with him. She spends much less time with him than she used to. She probably misses him a lot. W-we should have him over more. For Dawn." Tara looked down at her hands guiltily, and Willow stared at her.

Buffy opened and closed her mouth once, before letting out a weak, mortified, noise and fleeing down the stairs and into the night.

Footsteps pounded after her, and Dawn shouted for her to stop. "Buffy! Buffy, what's the matter?"

"Oh, my God. Tara- I think she knows. About me. And Spike."

"Probably." Dawn sighed. "So? Tara and Willow won't judge you. They're lesbians and witches. They're down with the whole 'how it feels to be persecuted' thing."

"But I don't want anyone to know._ No one_ but you can know!" And even you can't know too much...

"Then stop wigging out! The more freaked you act around him, the more everyone will notice. Geez, you are so not date material anyway. Spaz."

"You wanna stay home?" Buffy threatened.

"Being quiet, now.'

"Good. I'll tell them I heard a noise outside." Buffy resolutely marched into the house, and back upstairs, retrieving her shoulder bag, and staring past Willow and Tara. On the way down she could feel their questioning eyes burning her, and she tried to smile carelessly. "Sorry, guys. Thought I heard something outside." She forced a laugh. "You know me. Slayer, wacky hearing is free with purchase."

"Right." Wilow said quickly. "C'mon, Xander and Anya are probably already there."

"Well, yeah, 'cause they actually use the car they have." Dawn griped.

"Walking won't kill you." Buffy ignored the car in the driveway as they headed out the front door. She had never managed to get her license, and even though she knew the basics of driving, the thought of it didn't thrill her.

"You should learn, 'cause next year, I'm in driver's ed, and then I'm getting my permit. You're gonna look silly, asking your little sister to drive you around." Dawn sang as she tripped lightly down the sidewalk.

"You're gonna look even sillier when you bring me that form to sign and I won't do it." Buffy said sweetly.

"Good point." Tara muttered to Dawn, linking arms with her and Willow.

"Stupid big sister." Dawn pouted, and somewhere in the darkness behind them, Buffy laughed. The three walking abreast exchanged a smile. That was a welcome sound, for whatever the reason.

Spike paced around town for a bit, grabbed a pint of blood from the butcher's, over to Willy's, where he made a hasty retreat once he saw his loan shark there, and then sauntered to the Bronze. He had been going to head over late, make it look like he had other things to do, that this was just a quick pop-in to collect his gustatory debt. But bugger that. Sod casual. He was about to dust from bein' close to her earlier, feeling her heartbeat pick up and race when she was near him, knowing she wanted him- and then keepin' his paws to himself. Bloody little tease, and she didn't even try. Quite the opposite. She was tryin' so hard to be good. Almost broke his heart to watch her torture herself in those circles, trying to find the black and white in a relationship so perfectly gray. _If I were a good bloke, I'd leave her be. An' if I were a bad bloke, I'd leave her be. _See? Gray all to hell.

Spike walked into the Bronze, nodding at the bartenders he recognized, dropping a wink at a pretty waitress. All for appearances sake. He only had eyes for one- he scanned the room- pretty little- reached out his senses for her- piece of flesh. And there she was, perched on a stool at one of the high top tables, Niblet and Anya giggling with her while Xander twirled on the floor with the wiccas.

"Hullo, girls." He smiled with his best tongue waggling charm. Anya gave him an appraising glance, Dawn returned his lecherous smile with one of pure excitement, and Buffy gave a small, nervous grin. "Must be torture on the local johnnies, watchin' the three of you, an' none of 'em brave enough to ask for a dance."

"Oh, no. I just don't like to dance with anyone but Xander. And I only let him dance with Willow and Tara because they're lesbians. And Dawn, since she's underage and he regards her as a sister, and Buffy because he's come to accept her as an unobtainable girl who will never be more than friend." Anya sipped complacently on her martini, ignoring Buffy's blush and Dawn's frown.

"Well, that's very public spirited of you, Anya." Spike drawled. He didn't like the look on Buffy's face, but God, he like demon girl's ways. Bloody direct and to the point. "You go dance with your man, then, I'll look after these ladies."

"Come on Anya, I'll go too." Dawn tugged Anya away with a little hop and a skip. "Spike- will you dance with me later?"

"Save one just for you, Niblet." Spike grinned. She beamed and pushed Anya through the crowds towards Xander.

"Hi, Luv." Spike turned his attention completely to Buffy. "Don't pay any mind to demon girl. Thinks like a bloke, all in the crotch."

"That's how you think?" Buffy frowned at him.

Hell. "Not all the time. But when I think about you bein' with other blokes, yeah, the little head takes over from the big head." He blushed, well, as much as he could without more blood in his system.

"Not so little head." Buffy muttered, and flashed him a smile, the teasing smile that he loved.

"Noticed, did you?"

"Uh, yeah. Kind of hard not to notice when you pile drive into me."

"Thought you could handle it, Pet. Didn't hear any complaints."

"That's because I loved it." She admitted. She held herself straighter in her seat as Spike lounged closer to her, leaning sideways, voice dropping, dripping like molasses across her skin.

"Did you? Good. I have plenty more where that came from. Got the sheets all clean, an' candles waiting to be lit, an' some orange juice and grapefruit juice in the fridge."

"Juice?" Shouldn't he be tempting her with hard liquor?

"Two parts orange, one part grapefruit. That's your drink, isn't it?"

"Dawn?" The child needed a muzzle.

"Amazing the little details you remember when you miss someone. Amazing what you'll talk about, not even aware of it." His knee brushed hers under the table.

"I guess. When Mom- I remembered everything about her. But I didn't talk about her."

"You could've done. I liked Joyce. Would've talked your ear off about her."

"I know that now. What else did Dawn tell you?"

"Oh, plenty. You like ice skatin', but you hate the cold. You're ravenous after you kill things, you'll eat or drink straight out of the container- but only when you're done patrolling or you wanna piss her off. You can't hold your liquor, but you like to try. You only eat smooth peanut butter, an' you have a stuffed pig named Mr. Gordo."

"That's plenty." Buffy flushed dark cherry. "You know I'm gonna kill her for telling you all that, right? Especially the Mr Gordo part."

"Why? Didn't hurt you, did it? Helped her not miss you so bad. I told her all the things I was thinking too. Well- the child safe parts."

"Like what?" She asked, flattered and curious. And damn him if he didn't always like to make her wait. "Where are you going?"

"Get you that coke. Wanna come order the flowerin' onion thing?"

"Okay." She scooted off the stool, and they walked to the counter, close but not touching. "So?"

"What's that?" He grinned at her, self-satisfied and infuriating.

"What could you possibly tell Dawn about me?"

"That you were resourceful. That I knew you were talented as soon as I saw you. That you knew what mattered in life, and you'd die for it."

"Sounds like her stuff was much lighter and fluffier." Buffy blushed even more deeply at the intensity of his words.

"Oh, I had plenty of that. Told her you cooked a perfect meal, once, and that it was crashed by Native American ghosts, and you never cooked properly again. Told her you wanted our first song to be 'Wind Beneath My Wings', an' that you can't hold a pool cue for toffee. Every wooden object becomes a stake where you're involved." He paused. "The rest was all heavy stuff. Lots of things you don't need to worry about, Luv." He put some coins down on the counter and took her coke. She sipped it and looked around nervously. "Relax. So you're talkin' to me, what's the problem? We talk quite a bit, since you came back."

"Oh, no, I was just thinking. I guess you really didn't have much to tell Dawn about me, did you? Apart from the big deal stuff, she was brave, she was noble. And no one will ever know that part, when I go. They won't know the girl part of me, either." She slugged down half her coke and gave a tiny, sudden, belch, blushing again, and turning her embarrassed attention to the counter. "How long does the onion thing take?" She demanded.

"I could tell her lots now, you know." Spike seized on the topic, watching her eyes flicker tentatively before she decided he wasn't going to be crude. He would never be crude, not where Dawn was concerned. "You try to write letters, but you get too caught up in the action you want to happen to let the words come out. When you look at bills, you have flashbacks to math class an' you get overwhelmed. When you look at a menu, you always order something under ten quid, regardless of who's payin'." They shared a smile, and he continued, softer now. "You always smell like sunshine, even though you spend a lot of time in the moonlight. You'll eat any sandwich, as long as they don't put sesame seeds on the bread. An' you can't work a garter belt." He whispered the last in a smirk.

"Hey!" Buffy elbowed him and laughed. "You can't tell Dawn that last one."

"Scouts' honor." He saluted.

"You weren't a scout." She rolled her eyes. "But I know, 'I ate a couple in my time'." She said in a terrible imitation of his accent.

"Ouch. That predictable, am I?" He snickered.

"Not really." She admitted. "Steady. But not unsurprising."

"That's good. Would hate to stop surprisin' you so early in the relationship. Which we don't have." He added quickly, seeing her mouth open in correction.

"Wow. Now who's predictable?" Buffy snagged the deep fried onion as it was finally pushed over the counter, and slid her money down, waiting for change.

"Hardly, Slayer. My blonde land mine, aren't you?"

"I guess." They slowly walked back to the table, seeing it was now ringed with the other members of their party. "Just so you know, I think it was sweet of you to talk to Dawn about me. I bet the others had a hard time with it."

"They did. I did, Buffy." He paused in mid-step, cocking his head to her. "You'll never know, Luv. When you died, was the only time I ever felt dead, not in a century of actually bein' dead." He bit back the lump that came boiling up to his throat. "But they couldn't be strong enough to talk to her, not as much as she needed. They did try, Buffy. But they were too busy hurtin', an' I dunno- maybe you were right about me. Maybe I can't love like they do, 'cause I forced myself to talk about you, often as she wanted to."

"Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you love better than they can, 'cause you made yourself go through the pain, because you loved someone so much."

"I do, Luv, you know that."

"Not me. Dawn." She brushed his arm gently, tears glinting on her lashes all of the sudden. "Falling in love with someone is one thing. But taking care of someone else, someone who has no claim on you, that's real. What you've done for Dawn and me, that was always real."

His head moved closer to hers suddenly, and her lips parted, eyes fluttered shut- and he caught an earful of loud, curious Xander-voice.

"There you two are! We thought maybe you got lost." Xander glared pointedly at Spike.

"Just about to find something, actually." Spike sneered. Buffy shot him a panicked glance. "Are you going to glare at me if I sit at your table and eat my meal, then?" He demanded of Xander.

"Yes." The broad shouldered brunette crossed his arms.

"Good. Scoot over Niblet, need to make sure I get a seat directly in front of the boy." Spike climbed onto a bar stool beside Dawn and an empty place, his "cocky bastard" grin plastered to his face.

Buffy watched Spike and Dawn again. Perfect, unspoken communication. Her sister was already peeling off onion petals, and he had a cocktail napkin sliding in front of her before she dropped them to the table. "Hot, Bit." He reminded her.

"Pass the ketchup." She blew on her fingertips, taking the bottle of Heinz from him before the sentence even finished. What's more, the tabasco sauce Spike wanted was already being pushed towards him by her slim fingers, and he took it with a half-smile and nod. And no one, Buffy noticed, was taking a second look.

She seethed for a second. Shouldn't one of you have noticed my baby sister was getting so comfy with a murdering VAMPIRE?, her mind shrilled. God, what kind of friends did she have?

Very good friends. You know that. And if they let Dawn build this relationship with Spike, they must have been able to tell, long before you got back, that there might be a vampire left inside him, but it had ceased murdering the moment he was chipped, and maybe they knew that he had ceased wanting the kill, the moment he lost his heart to her.

She boldly hopped on the barstool, and reached over and dug into the fried onion chunks, smiling at his pleased expression and the hidden touch of his knee to hers. "This is nice. All of us together."

"Too many in the 'all of us' party, Buff." Xander pointed his bottle of Bud at Spike.

"Oh, shut it, Harris." Spike flicked a grease stained napkin at him.

"I don't see why you're complaining. Since Spike joined the good guy team there's been another male around. You say you miss having another man on the team." Anya turned to her groom with a puzzled expression.

"The key word was 'man', Honey. Not demon."

Anya's glare could have sizzled bacon. Willow, Dawn, and Buffy winced, Tara looked sadly concerned, and Spike grinned broadly. "Oh, so demons are inferior beings?"

"Not once they're good!" Xander tried to placate his dangerously annoyed girlfriend.

"Spike's good!" Dawn chimed, mouth full of onion bits.

"Yeah. I'm good. Enough." He winked at Buffy.

"But Ahn, it's not the same. You're human now and-"

"Spike's human. A vampire is the demon that lives inside the man." Buffy wished, for the zillionth time in her life, that she had a cosmic remote. She so should have rewound the last three seconds, and not joined the "I love Spike" party.

Spike shifted uncomfortably, hearing the adrenaline rush through Buffy's veins, her super strong heart going at break neck pace to control the " fight or flight" instinct. "No, the boy has a point. I'm not good like Anya, not all human. Don't have a soul." He stared straight into the disbelieving eyes across from him. "But God knows, if I could get the same chance that you got, Demon Girl, an' I could take the vampire out of the man, I'd do it. If I had the right reason, I'd do it."

Stunned silence all around the table for a blink. "See!" Anya demanded of Xander, and the bickering resurfaced.

"Dancing now!" Willow clapped her hands like a teacher marshaling her unruly classroom. Xander and Anya argued on, but the rest of the party vacated rapidly.

"That was so beautiful." Tara murmured to Willow as they took the floor, dancing to the canned music, the band on its break. "What he said. He'd change for her, deny his inner nature, sacrifice a hundred years worth of self." Willow wrapped her arms around Tara as the blonde sniffled emotionally. "For the right reason."

"Yeah." Willow stroked her lover's long silky tresses. "For love."

Buffy danced at the edge of the crowded floor, watching Spike and Dawn, her sister having claimed the first dance. And she knew why. Once she had taken her obligatory turn, she'd be out of the way, leaving Spike partnerless, and the obvious choice for him would be one very moved slayer. He practically admitted he'd give up his lifeforce, for me, get rid of that part of himself. Well, it was a bad part of himself, anyway. So why should I care? That's what he _should_ do, right?

What gives you the right to tell someone to give up half of themselves for you? Nothing! Slayer or not, Spike just said he'd give up a part of himself that's been with him for over 120 years, and you don't get that as part of the Chosen One package.

I don't want him to lose pieces of himself, good or bad. Because I know. How it feels to be broken and put back together wrong. And no one else I love gets ripped up that way.

Buffy watched Spike dance with her sister. He doesn't know how to dance without prowling or punking out, she realized. Dawn was pretty much teaching him, but he was going along with it. And again, she watched the pair, laughing, she trying to teach him to move his whole body with the beat. The teaching failed. Spike could grind and bump, slowly and sinfully, but that wasn't something he would ever do with Dawn. She watched him throw out his arms and shake off his duster, grab Dawn's hand and start rocking out like he was in a mosh pit, making her squeal and shriek, head banging along side hers until she got it, too. When Spike's with her, all the girly fear ad clinginess dropped away. Because she knows he loves her, and he won't let her down. _Just like I know he won't let me down either..._

He practically told everyone he would change for me, and they know he loves me. He doesn't care what they think. If they hurt him, if I hurt him, he doesn't stop. He'll do what he thinks is right, and that's love. That's brash, that's ballsy, that's Spike. My Spike. Swearing, smoking, sex-god Spike, and don't tell me that was how he was before, because I know. I know that what's inside the man is brought out by the demon, and God, if that demon makes him Spike, then he can sure as hell keep it.

"I think only dead guys can head bang!" Dawn came over, dragging Spike, and rubbing her neck.

"You need more practice is all!"

"No! I need ice and aspirin." Dawn laughed. "I'm gonna go steal some of your soda okay, Buffy?"

"Okay. Love you." Buffy squeezed her sister's arm in passing.

"Love you." Dawn replied. "Both." She mouthed with a wink.

"She's so bad." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Impossible." Spike agreed.

"That's from spending too much time with you." They accused in unison, and then shared a chuckle.

"I- uh- think she wanted us to dance, Pet." Spike murmured.

"No thanks. I just saw you dance." Buffy giggled, refusing to give in. Kissing him, and sleeping with him, that was private. That was okay. Dancing with him in public was pretty stupid. If you wanted your dirty secret to stay secret, that is.

"I don't dance like that all the time." He breathed softly, speaking more through the shape of his perfect, pale lips, than with the sounds emitting from them.

Buffy was mesmerized, and felt herself stepping closer, closer- and wake up! No! No public touchy-touchy! No dancing. Especially since you know that he doesn't intend to do his crazy punk rock dance with you. He's going to-

"Going to take you nice and easy around the floor. Once. And then I'm gone." He promised.

"What if everyone notices?" She whispered, resistance crumbling.

"You shove me off and call me a disgusting pig." He smiled.

"No. No, I won't do that."

"Yes, you will." His blue eyes were wide open and clear. Understanding. "You will, an' it's okay. You can hurt my pride, if it saves yours, Buffy. Told you, I don't have any pride when it comes to you, anyway." An' I know I'm pathetic. But I'd rather be pathetic than watch her try to cope with one more rejection, one more judgement, one more soddin' friend who turned enemy when confronted with a particularly twisted piece of truth. Such as the fact that the two of them were in love.

The fact that he would willingly hurt so she didn't have to, that she could let someone else catch the pain for a little bit, made her ache to give in. "I do want to. I do but-"

"Rest on me." His voice was soft but commanding, and his hands were hard against the delicate slope of her spine. He turned her away from him, lips at her ear, hands on her hips. "Rest on me. You know I'll keep you safe, Luv. From bad dreams and bad pains- if you let me." He thought back to the first time they were forced into close contact, the modeling agency shoot, where he used those same words, urged her to rest on him, and for the first time in her life, she'd let him. He'd caught her.

There was the luftpause between songs as the music switched from one track to the next. She turned to face him, she could feel the hardness between his legs achingly rubbing the small of her back, and she had to stop it. Of course, now it would rub her front, so she moved an acceptable distance away. "One dance." She agreed. "Nothing too slimy, okay?"

"Shall I request Ms. Middler for you, Pet?"

"Would you stop that? That was totally the spell."

"Yeah, well, wonder what in the world a first dance for us would be?" They laughed, both with a tinge of bitterness, and then dawning realization.

"I guess we're going to find out." She whispered.

The drums started first, hard, staccato taps, crashing chords underneath. Buffy couldn't place the song, but Spike clearly did. His head instantly bobbed and his grin threatened to split his face in two. Just loud enough for her to hear, he sang with the blaring music.

_I don't mind you comin' here _

_And wastin' all my time _

_'cause when you're standin' oh so near _

_I kinda lose my mind _

She blushed, knowing he wasn't just singing along. He was singing to _her_.

_It's not the perfume that you wear _

He nodded his head in agreement with the lyrics. She knew perfume had nothing to do with the way he felt about her, the scents he loved best were just her. Just herself.

_It's not the ribbons in your hair _

His hand tangled up in her hair, she found her own suddenly threading through his.

_I don't mind you comin' here _

_And wastin' all my time _

The hard instrumental section broke up the verses, and they spun for a minute, faces serious and his lips curling with hint of feral grace.

_I don't mind you hangin' out _

_And talkin' in your sleep _

"I don't mind anything you do, Pet."

_It doesn't matter where you've been _

"Go where ever you want, Luv."

_As long as it was deep, yeah _

"I'll come after you." Reassurance, not a threat.

_You always knew to wear it well and _

_You look so fancy I can tell _

"You're beautiful, an' you always will be to me."

_I don't mind you hangin' out _

_And talkin' in your sleep _

_I guess you're just what I needed _

His voice was louder, and he sang more insistently.

_just what I needed_

_I needed someone to feed _

_I guess you're just what I needed _

_just what I needed_

_I needed someone to bleed _

She gasped. He licked his lips. "More than one way to feed an' bleed, Luv." He murmured over the guitar's short bridge.

_I don't mind you comin' here _

_And wastin' all my time, time _

Somehow they'd gotten closer, still dancing to the quick beat, eyes locked, but no more words coming from him. He'd tried to find relevance in the song, and maybe she hadn't liked it. Maybe that whole bleedin' and feedin' bit had put her off, but he thought it was bloody priceless, the perfect song for a vampire and his Slayer.

_'cause when you're standin' oh so near _

_I kinda lose my mind, yeah _

His eyes flickered across hers and away. Drives me crazy and she knows it.

_It's not the perfume that you wear _

_It's not the ribbons in your hair _

_I don't mind you comin' here _

"Spike?" Buffy addressed him earnestly.

_And wastin' all my time _

"Yes, Pet?" Strangely hopeful, and maybe once again, his luck would hold.

_I guess you're just what I needed _

She couldn't sing to him. In her mind she couldn't sing, period, not without divine intervention, or in the case of two weeks ago, demonic intervention, but she talked to a beat. Yes, that was what she was doing. She was looking into his eyes, hand curling hard to the back of his neck, until their foreheads nearly touched, her voice low and insistent, desperate.

_just what I needed_

_I needed someone to feed _

_I guess you're just what I needed _

_just what I needed_

_I needed someone to bleed _

It was sick, but he was right. There were plenty of ways to feed and bleed. He fed her heart. He bled her sadness out. And maybe she did the same for him.

_You're just what I needed _

_You're just what I needed _

_Yeah, you're just what I needed _

The song ended, but the couple on the floor didn't move, and didn't unclench.

"I think it's time to go." Willow said firmly to the other members of the party.

"Bu- what?" Xander sputtered and pointed.

"Time to go." Anya shared a rare moment of agreement with Willow.

"No, just wait a minute, Buf-" Xander's cry was silenced by a sharp little shove from Dawn, right into his middle.

"If you act like a poop head, Xander Harris, I'll-" Dawn drew herself up menacingly, "I'll- it won't be pretty."

"It's just a dance." Tara said gently.

"He won't hurt her." Anya eased Xander towards the door.

"Isn't this wrong though? He asked frantically. "I mean Angel, well Angel was a bastard, but he had a soul, and SPike is- a bastard without a soul. Isn't this like a major bad?"

"So, feeling emotional attachments to demons is wrong?" Anya's rage simmered easily to the surface.

Self-preservation mode took over him. Do not piss off the future wife. It only leads to badness. And Buffy's a big girl. Spike's chipped, and I know he'd get turned into hamburger rather than hurt Buffy, so- leap o' faith time. "We're heading home! You two have fun!" Xander shouted loudly.

Buffy gasped and she froze, absolutely terrified. Spike's hands dropped from her arms as if she were soaked in undiluted holy water. "I- I-" She gulped and hastily stepped away from her partner. "This isn't-"

"Pssht! Just a dance. Have fun, patrol, shmooze, have a drink." Xander laid it on thick.

"Wh- aren't you mad? Or wigged?" Buffy asked tremulously, unconsciously finding Spike's hand for support.

It didn't go unnoticed by the rest, nor by Spike, who was torn between tightening his grip possessively or unlacing his hand completely. Buffy sorted that dilemma, gripping his hand so tightly he heard the bones creak.

"Why should they be? Jus' a dance, init? An' I gotta run along soon, poker game at Willy's."

"What's the big deal?" Dawn shrugged, and Willow giggled nervously.

"W-we need to go. Um, I have a paper due tomorrow, Willow, and I w-wanted you to proofread it." Tara stammered.

Buffy stared at them as they left. "Goodnight?" She called faintly, and received a warm answering chorus in return.

"Your lot- half decent sometimes." Spike muttered.

"They don't know? Do they?" Buffy asked desperately. Spike looked at her in open scorn, scarred eyebrow dicing with his hairline in his incredulity at how much denial she could live in. "They do?"

"They know there's somethin', Pet. But not what the somethin' is." Not fully anyway. They'd never believe, never in their wildest dreams imagine it was love, 'cause even he only half-believed it sometimes.

"Ohhhh. Oh, my God, Spike." She ran her hands distractedly through her hair, tugging it into a mass of wisps, making her look tousled. Sexy. Ravished. Damn her, Spike thought.

"Shh. We've told them the truth. Complete truth." He tugged her hand, and led her off the floor, retrieving his duster from a dance floor side table, leading her back to the table to get her bag.

"But-"

"Just one dance." He reminded her.

"Oh." She sounded both relieved and disappointed.

"Because then we've got to patrol. An' then there is a poker game at Willy's. Which I will be far too busy to get to. Won't I, Luv?" His lips brushed hers as he lowered his head to speak directly to her, melt himself into her gaze.

"_Oh_." She flushed prettily and slung her bag on her shoulder. She swallowed, and slowly let her fingers grasp his.

He tightened his grip. "You ready, then?"

"No. But I'm ready to try." She whispered, and they walked into the night together.


	3. Chapter 3

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold._

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, iSage, Idiosyncratic Delusions, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, are other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part III

"You can breathe, y'know." Spike laughed softly as they walked slowly down the dark back streets. Two vamps dusted as a matter of course, two screaming victims running off without saying thank you. "Or speak. Or bloody hell, do somethin'!"

"I think I'm gonna barf." Buffy squeaked weakly.

"Is there something in the rules that says you shouldn't slay on a full stomach?" He asked, hand gently pressing between her shoulder blades as she began to bend forward.

"Not because of_ that_, you idiot. I danced with you. In front of my friends and my family!"

"And they didn't throw a hissy fit, so why are you plannin' to toss your cookies, Luv?" He lit up a cigarette and smoked it to calm his nerves. Or his hormones, if you could call a dead man's lustful urges that scientific term. Whatever. Stop the quaking feeling in his gut that any moment she'd well an' truly do a bunk, run clear across the state, run in denial from the fact that she was letting him get closer. Or ease the raging burn in his loins that he felt when he realized she was trying to make this keep working, that soon he could have her again, love her again, lose himself in her again.

" 'Cause they _didn't_ wig! They didn't freak at all. What's wrong with them?"

"What?" He asked in shock.

"What kind of a friend lets a friend get snuggly with a vampire?" Buffy demanded. "Nothing personal, here, I just mean, really!" Really, Sunnydale needed its own prevention slogan. "Friends don't let friends hang with vampires."

Spike laughed. "So, you're relaxed are you? Gonna talk about the big psych problems as we kill the bads?" He smiled evilly. "This works better with a couch, Luv."

"Stop being sick for a minute, please? What kind of friends are those guys?"

"Not so good to me, but bloody wonderful to you. They think you're just havin' a bit of fun, a dance. They know I love you, so they aren't huntin' me down with stakes and burning crossbows. Yeah?"

"I guess." She pouted. "No! I don't mean I want them to freak at me, but I'd like them to be-" She searched for a word. Tired of pity, tired of outright worry, totally not wanting judgement and anger. "I'd like them to be _concerned_."

"Listen, Honey." Spike's voice took on a brusque edge, and he paused, halting her with him. "Your mates are probably completely scared for you. But they know you could kick my ass clear across the soddin' Pacific. They know you could stake me anytime you please." Her lips twitched in protest, but she remained silent. His voice slowed and lost it's abrasive quality. "They might worry about what you're doin'. They might not like who you're doin' it with, whatever the 'it' is, Luv, not sayin' they know about our intimate details. But you're back. They've had a long time to want you back, done everything possible to get you back, and now- Buffy, they want you here with 'em. However you come." His voice was now a completely gentle whisper. "I knew you were restin' Pet, so I never tried to bring you back. But now that you _are_ back, Luv, I'm so happy. You came back with the pieces missin', and full of grief and anger, an' snarkin' at me, or sobbin' on me, an' it doesn't make a blind bit of difference. I love _you_." He turned her to face him, hands high on her arms, just under her shoulders. "An' they love you, too."

"Why don't they talk to me like you do?" She whispered, eyes brimming.

"Because they're scared to make one more mistake. I'm a demon, Pet. I'm doomed to fail before I start, I can make all the mistakes in the world. Maybe I'm not as human as I like to think I am, but I don't have that little warnin' bell that stops me plungin' in."

"That's why you're so stupid?" She teased softly, voice hoarse. He laughed with her and nodded.

"I reckon it is."

"Then stay how you are." She let her hands uncurl from their usual defensive or tensed clench that he seemed to trigger. Let her hands fall softly onto either of his cheeks, fingertips supporting the hollow of his temples, green eyes diving into his blue depths. "If you're brave enough to stay, be the one who doesn't run, stay just how you are. Don't think I can't love you, b-because of what you are."

"Precious..." He was thankful he didn't need to breathe, because he couldn't have now. She was saying something she'd never said before. That she loved him-like he was. She had said she loved him, loved him for his borrowed goodness, his humanity, the fact that he could try, that he could stay the course. "You sayin' what I think you are?"

"What do you think I'm saying?" She asked nervously.

"That you can put up with the demon part. That you don't love me less because of that?"

"No..." She trailed off. What the hell was she saying? Stop now, one part of her brain warned, but that nagging voice grew ever fainter, and she ignored it. "I'm saying that I- that I love you with it. Not less, not more. Just- I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you, and that means all the pieces. No one else gets ripped apart- like me." Her head sank wearily to his chest.

He held her, dead heart that was stilled seeming to pump hard and fast. Maybe it was just the veins that were stale and cold, humming with some borrowed blood. He looked up at the stars. She said she's in love with me. Oh, God. Bloody, sweet God. "No one'll take you apart, Luv, ever again. An' I'm gonna help you find the pieces you came back without. I promise."

"You never deny that I'm missing pieces. Everyone else keeps telling me I'm fine, or I'll _be_ fine. But I'm not fine." She whispered.

"You'll get there, Luv. An' of course I'm not gonna deny you have something missin'. How the bloody hell would I know?"

"Because you're a good guesser?"

"I accept what you tell me, Luv. At least about how you feel on this."

"Thank you for that."

"You're welcome." She looked up at him expectantly, and he blinked. Kiss her here? Well, it was an alley, an' no one was around, might as well take one of his fearless dives. If she changed her mind halfway through, took the stake out of one of her hidden pockets or pouches, and plunged it in, he'd go happy, with her kiss on his lips. That was how he wanted to go, anyway...

She moaned softly as he gathered her up in his arms, kissing her softly, but deeply. Every time she gave way just a little, he was there, fuller, farther, pushing into the soft hollow of her mouth, and stroking her tongue with his. "Ohh. Uhhh..."

"Let's go home, Luv. Your place or mine?"

"Yours. Patrol first." She replied breathlessly. He grabbed her again, crushing her body to his.

"Want you, Pet. Gonna make you scream in all the good ways, if no one's around to hear us." He promised with a flat palm to her rear, slowly trailing up her side, hand resting on her breast at the end of his segue.

He didn't usually start there. Maybe he thought she would object, after the forced intimacy of their first topless touches. Buffy pressed into him once, and then backed away hastily. "Patrol. Come on."

"You good guy types." He grumbled. "Duty calls and all the rest of it."

"I didn't say a long patrol." She grinned, and he returned it.

"Then let's get on with it."

They made a sweep of the docks and warehouses first, since they were in town to begin with. They found another nest, a small one, and saw some activity near the museum as they were heading to the graveyards on the outskirts of town.

"It's that van! Spike, that weird black van!" Buffy tugged his arm suddenly.

"Those the ones that messed with you?" Spike shrugged off her grip and strode over to the museum's entrance, giving a long hard look at the black van that Buffy had seen plaguing her a few weeks ago, messing with her jobs, messing, with her time-space perceptions, messing with _his girl_. No one messes with her, but me, Spike thought viciously. And me only in a good way.

"What are you doing?" She hissed as he pushed past her.

"Somethin' you'd object to." Spike sighed, and smashed the glass in on the museum door. Sure enough, she cried his name in annoyance and ran to him as the museum's klaxon alarm rang. "Oi! Hours say ten to six!" Spike drawled loudly as he entered the lobby.

Three very confused looking guys, well, nerds really- stood over a display case, a huge diamond in the central figure's hands.

"Sod it. Humans." Spike griped. "Guess the floor is yours, Luv."

"It's the Slayer!" A petite blonde boy shrilled, and all three turned to face her fully.

"Warren?" Buffy quirked a brow as she got a good look at the threesome, realizing she recognized two of them. "You moved from robots to jewel heists? Couldn't you just detail cars or collect comics like normal geeks?

"Buffy? Spike?" Warren looked between the two, a look of fear replaced by confidence.

"Jonathan." Buffy took in the two shorter figures flanking Warren. "And you- I have no idea." The blonde opened his mouth to speak, but Spike cut him off.

"Doesn't matter, Luv." Spike's bravado decreased slightly. Of all the ways to bugger up an evenin', and curse his already infernal unlife, it would be to run into a demented, would-be villain, who knew about his Buffy sex fantasies, and had built the Buffy Bot for him.

"Don't worry guys. That's not the real Slayer, that's Spike and his sex toy." Warren scoffed.

It was gonna hurt, but it would be the best headache he ever earned... Spike lunged, only to find his girl already doin' his grunt work, decking the boy flat on his arse and sending the diamond rolling to the marble tiles.

"That _thing_ was wrong, and bad, and obscene, plus she sounded like a complete idiot!" Buffy ranted. Jonathan and the other accomplice began to sidle away, and she held up a warning hand. "Don't you dare move. Either of you! Jonathan, I don't know what the hell you think you're pointing at me, but point it anymore and it'll be shoved down your throat." She returned her attention to Warren again, hoisting him up by his collar. Jonathan hastily dropped his arms to his side, the thing, a freeze ray, pointing to the floor, clearly believing Buffy's words.

Warren recaptured her attention. "I just programed her, you don't like how she sounded- yell at the goth guy."

"Keep your soddin' mouth shut." Spike snarled threateningly, eyes slitting.

"You should have heard what kind of things he wanted her to do-" Warren sneered, mouth almost watering at the blushing rage on her features. Buffy grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him up, but he kept taunting."Things no decent girl-"

"Shut _up_!" Spike shoved Buffy hard as he tore the scrawny thief from her hands and slammed him hard to the floor. He reeled with the blackness of pain that engulfed him as the chip fired, and fought it off for one good hit. Fired again, when he drew his arm back, fired once more as he lowered it, and then he heard the satisfying sound of a crunching jaw before he blacked out, chip fairly exploding in his brain.

"Spike!" Buffy screamed.

"Warren!" His sidekicks ran towards him.

"Oh no. Oh my God, this wasn't supposed to happen..." The blonde was whimpering and swaying.

"Oh, for God's sake, grow up!" Buffy fought off the urge to run to Spike, more pressing matters at hand. "Call 911!"

"No! They're going to arrest us, Andrew, are you stupid?" Jonathan smacked the cell phone from his friend's hand.

"Your buddy has a broken jaw, and either you sit here and wait for the police like good little bad guys, or I'll break your jaws, too. And anything else I feel like." She threatened.

"Y-you wouldn't. You're Buffy. You're good." Jonathan backed away from her nervously.

"I guess I'm walking on the dark side right now. Okay? So don't push it." She held out her hand for Andrew's cell phone. "I'm calling 911. You two sit down. NOW!" They dropped like frightened schoolboys caught in the act.

Spike sat up groggily, wiping blood from his nose off his upper from his nose? He hadn't been hit, where the hell had blood come from? He shook his head blearily. The world tilted painfully. Oh. Chip hadn't liked being ignored. Probably busted some blood vessels in his brain. Quite worryin' really, he didn't know if his brain should have active blood vessels, come to think of it.

He managed to focus his eyes and saw Buffy standing a few yards from him, over two cowering men, and the third was sprawled beside him. "Slayer, I'm-"

"Not now, Spike." Buffy sighed, phone to her ear. "Hello? Yes, I _do _have an emergency..."

They waited in the shadows off the building, watching Jonathan and Andrew hauled into police cars, Warren into an ambulance, and the security guard, who Spike and Buffy had collided with shortly after the 911 call- was giving statements to the police. "That's wrapped up." Spike sighed. He didn't look at her. Just when she was starting to accept him, he had to get the most perverted thing he'd ever requested shoved in his face, shoved in hers, proof that he wasn't much of a man, not really so noble after all.

"Yeah. For now." Buffy muttered grimly. "Let's go. Before Rusty stops taking the credit and wants to mention the two young people who fought off the robbers."

"I'll walk you home." He murmured, hands deep in his pockets.

"Cemeteries first." She reminded him, beginning to walk off into the darkness.

"Yeah." He ran his fingers slowly through his hair. "Look, Buffy. I'm sorry, yeah? For the violence. An' the- the stupid robot. I know you're brassed off, an' I don't rightly blame you. I'll see you sometime soon? Maybe?"

"What?" Buffy did a double take, and then her fist shot out and clipped him, a glancing blow, nowhere hard as she could give. "You're leaving?" Don't leave me! I don't like the memories that whole deal brought back, but I don't want to face them without you... "You're leaving, after that?"

"Thought you'd like me to be someplace else." He shrugged. "Can't say I blame you."

"Did you really ask him to do things like he said? Make me sound dumb?"

"No! I asked him- I told him- I dunno, Luv, I didn't mean to make you sound dumb. I never thought she did. She wasn't you. I knew it the whole time, the moment I thought of it, the moment I asked for it, the moment I got her alone. But I let myself pretend, alright?"

"Okay." No, it wasn't okay, it had made her feel ashamed and degraded, thinking of any number of things Spike might have done with her likeness. But that robot had been a stroke of genius in the end, helping them in the battle with Glory, providing a face and figure that kept the demons in check while she was underground, providing "proof" that Dawn still had a legal guardian at home so she wasn't taken away.

"She wasn't for sex. I mean, yeah, not gonna lie, I did that, but she was for other things, Buffy. She was supposed to be my pale imitation of you, to stop me goin' crazy when I knew I could never have the real thing. And after-you jumped," he studied the ground intently as he spoke, "I never looked at that abomination. Only reason I didn't tear it to bits was to keep Niblet lookin' like she had you, so's they couldn't take her from us."

That was wrong, but honest. And there was truth and goodness underlying the objectionable deed he had enacted. She could overlook it. It was, quite literally for her, a lifetime ago. But one piece of curiosity had to be assuaged first. "Warren said you asked him to make her do things-"

"Yeah, I dunno know what he was on about, Luv, honestly. I'm creative an' all, but not more so than- oh." Spike coughed, glad he couldn't actually turn red, despite the blush he felt.

"You thought of what you asked him for?" She braced herself to hear of something unspeakably terrible.

"After fightin'. She'd want me. Okay? Plain an' simple." And there'd always be the bit about her wanting to stake me, but giving into her secret desire instead- but no, I'm not tellin' her that, think we've done that now, an' if we haven't, I don't think tonight is the night to give her any ideas. Spike looked away, torn between trying to look contrite or look arrogant. After all- he had plenty of reason to think fightin' was foreplay, after all the times he'd caught a sniff of arousal during their encounters. If she threw it back at him, he had some ammunition.

"That's not so bad. It's-" Buffy's turn to cough and fluster. "It's kinda accurate. Not necessarily that I wanted _you,_ or that fighting makes me want-y, not since I've been back. But yeah- it makes me- used to make me- all hot. So... Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?" He looked at her. Where was Ms. Holier-than Thou?

"Oh, I still think it was dumb and perverted and sick. But so were a million other things you did. I ignore them." She looked thoughtful. "Or I tolerate them. Or something."

"Blood under the bridge?" He looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"Ewww, no. Just- you can't undo things, you can only try to do things differently in the future." She began walking again, and he followed, hands swinging alongside him, coming close enough to brush hers, but never quite managing to catch hold. "If you ever try to build one again, though..."

"I won't. I have the real thing, now, don't I?" He tried to sound confident in the fact, but inside he waited for the blow to drop. He wondered if he'd always have to wait, acting confident, but fearing inside. Or maybe one day, he'd know. Be able to just know that it would be fine in the end.

She caught the stiffening in his spine, how he smiled, but he tilted his chin forward slightly. He's waiting for something to hurt, for the Bitch Queen to land a verbal punch. And, yeah, I can make him hurt. If I wanted to. I don't want to anymore- not right now. "Am I the real Buffy you wanted, though?" She murmured.

"You're you. Yeah. You're all I bloody wanted." Faint heart never won fair maiden- he seized her hand. "I love _you_. Got it?"

"Got it." She pressed closer to him, sliding her fingers deeper across the back of his hand, gently rubbing the silver ring on his thumb with the interior of her own.

"Say it." He urged in a silky, but not sexual, whisper.

"I love you." She admitted with closed eyes.

She still loves me. Even after that pillock reminded her that I'm no saint. Don't wanna be a saint. Just wanna be good enough for her. His hand squeezed hers once in a silent burst of thanks, and they wordlessly walked on, taking the long way through town, heading to the graveyards for a sweep before bed. Before bed- not before sleep.

I like this guy, Buffy mused. They patrolled together, but he kept out of her way, or got in her way, just as much as needed. And they could talk, or not talk. It was very comforting to just be left alone, but be together. She remembered the night she'd found out her mother was ill, and Spike came over, ready to kill, but instead ended up sitting on the porch with her for hours, not saying much of anything. And she remembered when she'd come back, feeling more lost than ever before, and she couldn't take being around her friends, knowing she could never tell them the truth- but she could talk to him. Even when she said she just wanted to be by herself, and he'd tried to leave, she'd told him something quaint and sappy-sounding, but true. _I can be alone with you here._

They saved the graveyard where Spike's crypt was for the last piece of their accelerated patrol. "Should be reasonably quiet, Luv. Any bads that know what's what avoid me these days. Mostly." He had to find a way to quietly deal with that loan shark of his, and his vampire goonies.

"Just wanna check fresh graves." She answered. No, not what I want. I want to go inside and find that bed, and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist. Pretend I'm not "Chosen", that he's not a vampire, that we're not really supposed to try and kill each other instead of love each other, and that we're not going to win freak show couple of the year. _If_ we were a couple, she hastily reminded herself.

But there was no activity to speak of, and soon the pair ended up slowly ambling towards their unorthodox rendezvous . "Sod it!" Spike suddenly cried and looked severely annoyed. "I forgot to mention the towel, an' I never did pick one up for you."

"I- uh- got it covered." Buffy shyly patted her shoulder bag. "I can leave some stuff here, right?" Her eyes went from relaxed and shy to panicked in a moment. "Oh God, Spike..."

"Shhh. Not gonna call you my girlfriend, not gonna expect you to start keepin' all your little trinkets scattered over the coffins upstairs. One towel an' I dunno, a toothbrush, doesn't mean anything big." Like hell it doesn't, it's huge! But we can pretend, we're so very good at it.

There was an awkward pause as they walked the last few yards. "Y'know, we don't have to jus' go in an' get right down to it, Luv. We can do- well, whatever you'd like, first."

Holy crap. Is he giving me the chick flick stuff? That's my job! Let's wait until we talk before we get down to it, is that what he's hinting? What the hell kind of badass is he? "You sound like a girl!" Buffy accused.

"Fine! You want to get straight to it, Luv, let's do it." He yanked the door open roughly and tugged her in after him. As soon as the door slammed, his hands were at his belt buckle, and his eyes blazed at her. "However you want it, Honey..." He snarled. God, try to tell her, remind her, that he loved her, not just wanted her, and she pretty much shoves it down his throat. Call him a girl? Well, he had some hard evidence to the contrary.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, Spike, hang on, will you?" She caught his arm, but he shook her off. "Listen!" She seized his wrists. "I didn't mean anything. I mean, I did, but I- Spike, I'm not good at this! Obviously." She sank heavily onto the arm of his recliner, head in her hands.

He sighed. "No. You're fine. Look, Luv, I jus' didn't want you to think, 'specially after we had the run in with robot-boy, that that's all I was after. That it was all I wanted from you." He came over and lightly touched the top of her head as it bowed.

She looked up at him, paler than ever, and wide eyed, startled. Poor little lamb, he thought, she hardly goes out in the sun these days, an' that week in the depths of the pretty boy industry didn't help.

"I already knew that, Spike. You offered me that. Remember?" And even if he hadn't been so blatant to come out and actually tell her, as he had, that just being able to love her was all he was after, no sexual strings attached, she could tell. No one, human or demon could possibly be so stubborn and annoyingly persistent unless they loved you.

"I know what I told you, Pet. Bears repeatin'."

"Given. You don't just love me for my body." She twitched up one corner of her pale pink lips in a half smile.

"I don't, no. But I bloody well do love it." He let a faint tinge of longing creep into his voice. "Love when you let me in you, Pet."

"Yeah, well, I don't think I'm super at the bedroom stuff. Not like you. You know. Garter belts and the- all of it." She shrugged hopelessly. "I guess."

"You're amazing at it! Sod the garter belt, I prefer you in nothin', anyway. We're brilliant together, Luv." Spike shook his head at her folly, and pulled her to her feet, smile positively incandescent. "You think I'm good?" He asked, pleased inside.

"No, Spike, the fact that I can't move for ten minutes after, super strength and all, means nothing." She said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. Her voice softened, tone losing its strident tone. "Seriously, you know I think that." She allowed her half smile to bloom and cover her whole face.

"Just like to hear it." He brushed a single finger across her lips, watching her eyes slowly brighten to full flame. "So, anything you want to do first?"

"Not really. Not that I'm just here for the sex." She said hastily. "I think I'd just feel better downstairs."

"Then down we go." Spike chuckled. He kicked the stone slab to the side, and leaped neatly down, ignoring the ladder. In a second, low light blazed from one of his wall brackets where he kept a torch at the ready. "Toss me your bag." He looked up at her, face eerily backlit.

"I got it." She swung herself down onto the ladder, took a steadying breath and sealed the trapdoor, then dropped past the last few rungs.

They stood in an awkward silence for a moment. Spike walked around the room, methodically lighting the candles that covered almost every flat surface, until the room was filled with soft warm light. "Erm- I'll put your towel by the pipe for you." Spike held out his hand.

"Huh? Oh, okay." She fumbled with her the flap of her leather purse and held out the small rolled up towel. She wordlessly fished around for a moment and then held out a pastel pink toothbrush. He took it without comment, even his eyes didn't mock her, cry a silent "I told you so". She was grateful for that and returned to her inspection of the place, looking around for a spot to put her deodorant and spare hairbrush. "Hey, you _did _clean up." She praised, noting the absence of skulls and cobwebs under the ladder, the clean scent of freshly washed bed linen.

"Told you I would!" He gently took the toothbrush and put it alongside his own, folded the towel and laid it on a much scuffed chest that he'd dragged over to the edge of his makeshift shower area. He unobtrusively slid the aromatherapeutic shampoo alongside the towel and hoped she wouldn't ask too many questions about where he'd gotten it.

Buffy pushed some candles around to clear a space,and sat her toiletries down on the scarred wooden chest that housed his few black tees and over shirts. "Looks nice. Are those new rugs?" She noted a set of thick, red patterned Oriental carpets covered the floor.

"Nah, Had 'em. Got 'em with the telly, but never unrolled 'em before today. Thought I'd-uh- spruce the place up." He shrugged as if it were nothing, but to her it meant a lot. "Still- not the Ritz. But it'll do, for all we need." Gotta get a chair for upstairs. Gotta get some kind of a loo- oh God, don't even dare mention that, she'll go completely crackers. Wish she'd just let us use her place. She is human, after all, even she doesn't feel it so much these days.

"I think it's the people that make the place." She whispered, coming up beside him. "I feel protected here. Loved here."

"I'll love you _everywhere_." He grunted softly, lifting her into his arms and ignoring her protests. "Shut up, Slayer. Jus' gonna pretend I'm normal for the night, okay? That I'm your man, an' you're my girl, an' I can make you happy."

"Oh, that's a good game." She sighed blissfully, and went limp across the bed.

"Role-playin' to a whole new level." He smiled at her. Sat on the edge of his bed, watching her lie there, dressed and relaxed, exhaustion on her pretty, pinched face. "We can just rest, Luv. That's pretty normal." How could she seem so strong in the moonlight, and wilt inside? It was the damn crypt's fault, a grave was no place for a firebird like her.

"We can sleep after." She slid her filmy red shirt off, then the black top under it, slowly rolling it up, finding him joining in to assist in easing it over her head.

"You're beautiful." He stroked a flat palm between her breasts and down to her waist. Slow, careful fingers undid her button and zipper, and she pushed the stiff fabric down over her thighs. Jeans kicked off, sexy heeled boots clunking to the floor, joining his.

She sat up, tentatively letting him pull her to him. He scooted his hips over to hers, her panty-covered crotch against his outer thigh. He slid one leg into his lap, the other curled under her on the bed. Casual, arms around each other. Making out, sweet, normal, young lovers, making out as they geared up for a night of lovemaking.

Never got to just kiss her all I wanted. Well, I get to now, Spike savored her kisses, the feel of her warm body on his. But hardly fair, he was dressed and she was barely covered. "Lay back a minute, Luv." He whispered. She lay back with a speculative smile on her face, watchfulness in her eyes. He stripped out of his shirt, and pushed off his jeans in a blink, having already started unbuckling the belt upstairs. Her eyes widened complimentarily, and he toyed with the idea of stroking himself a few times to further captivate her- but stopped. No added arousal required just now. All he had to do was look at her in his bed and he started to feel that knot of pressure at the base of his shaft, just aching to come undone. "That's fair now, init?"

"Not quite." She reached around and unclasped her bra, her fingers receiving an extra push from his as he tried to help. She didn't cover herself this time, just lay back languidly.

Good God, he was gonna die, or he was gonna vamp. Maybe both, an' be the first ever undead beasty to die of a heart attack, as well. But something inside him was pounding right through the top of his skull, making him puff in short little gasps. She was just so perfect, so sweet, an' just waitin' to be devoured. Not in his usual way, in a way he found he preferred even more.

"You want me that much?" Buffy asked, noticing his unusually strained behavior.

"I'm in no hurry." He said truthfully. "Jus' the opposite. Wanna make this last." He leaned forward, slowly walking his hands up the mattress beside her until they rested even with her shoulders. "An' by the way, you're still too overdressed for this party." Her slender fingers were quick to remove the intrusive piece of fabric covering her womanhood. "That's so much better." He sighed.

She let herself get positioned, on her side, facing him, letting him kiss her until she needed air, letting him have free rein. It felt so good- just to pretend that it was normal. And normal girls didn't have to be in control all the time. Normal girls could just let the guy lead, sometimes.

His hands wrapped around her silky back and pressed them together, soft curves meeting hard muscular edges, his hard length on the softest part of her belly. "Buffy." He breathed.

"Spike." She breathed back. His talented mouth worked it's way down her neck, and slowly latched to the pulse point. She gasped, and her muscles contracted.

"I wouldn't bite, Luv. Not like you're thinkin'." He reassured, and sucked her skin into his mouth, fighting his demonic urges to taste her blood, not just her skin.

"You leave a hickey, and I'll still stake you." She whispered, giggling faintly. "Spoil my fun." He frowned. "How about if I leave it where your friends can't see it?" He purred, and moved down to the valley between her breasts.

He did things to her breasts that shouldn't be possible. Things that made her wince and gasp, and soak the sheet between her thighs. "Not hurtin' you am I?" He grinned as she gasped and arched again. The chip hadn't alerted him to the fact if he was. He looked up cockily, prepared to keep going. "Gonna head down now." He warned, and began to move, laying deep, tongue swirling kisses from her cleavage to her sweet juicy sex.

"No!" She cried softly. "W-ait. Don't normal guys, you know, want to get taken care of too?"

"I'm _well_ taken care of, Pet." He loved doing this to her. For her, and (who was kidding?), himself as well. He nuzzled her soft mound until her thighs dropped open and he could get to the nectar he was after. "Mmm, Baby has been ready." He smirked, and ran his tongue along the softness of her outer lips, finding faint lines of her juice on the outside, all pooling down to her center. A little wet spot on the bed. He chuckled, and Buffy groaned.

"Can we not humiliate me, please?" She asked faintly, but with a touch of shrew in her tone. Of course I would be this wet for him. Only ever for _him_, none of the others. With Angel it had been too sad and too new, her first time ever. Parker had been too nerve wracking for her to properly enjoy, what with the constant onslaught of "What am I doing in some guy's dorm room?, and "Oh my God, am I the freshman slut?" questions. Riley had been the most comfortable, but she wasn't in love, so she never really got the height of feeling she was getting now. "I would have to pick the most annoying one..." She muttered.

"I'm not laughing at you, Pet, I'm laughing 'cause I'm so bloody happy you want me, an' I can't think properly to filter it out. Think it's a normal bloke thing to do, but I could be wrong." He mumbled.

Poor Spike. He doesn't know "normal" either. Guess he is right for me. Gahh! No, not right for me! Not _right_, not at all, completely wrong for me. But just what I need. "I'm happy, too." She sat up a little and let her fingers connect with his brow. "That was totally normal. As far as I know."

"Good, Luv. Now be a good girl, an' let a man work, will you, hmmm?" He dipped his tongue back down, lower, lower, trace the slit where her outer lips met, and ahhh. Ambrosia in the center. He burrowed in and pushed his tongue back up, opposite direction, splitting her open for his greedy drinking mouth.

"Oh God, ohGodohGod." She let out a rapid string of relieved noises as he wormed his way in. She arched right off the bed and into his mouth, rocking her hips almost instantly.

"Not yet, not yet." He soothed. "So much more to do, Luv." He purred.

And, oh, Sweet Jesus, he found every conceivable thing to do to her that a mouth could do. Tongue lapped so far inside her that it danced on that spongy hidden spot, fingers taking over when he couldn't get in deeper. Nibbling and sucking on the folds and crevices of her like he was licking an ice cream cone as it melted. He didn't even stop when she came, just wrapped those vampirically strong arms around her gyrating hips and kept going.

This is wrong, he's working so hard, and I need to give something back, something to him. Normal girls do things for their men. And a conflicting voice challenged, no, this is how it should be. You're a slayer, the only way that a vampire should be allowed to touch you is in service. Another explosive gasp and shudder as she came for the third time silenced the voice. Normal girls aren't "slayers", and normal guys aren't vampires. We're just two people tonight. Lovers. Lovers take care of each other. "My turn. Now. My turn, right now, Spike." She demanded, struggling up. "You deserve something, too, and I-"

"Steady on, Pet, 'deserve' doesn't enter into this." Spike hesitated before sliding gracefully onto his back, lazily rolling and spreading out the perfect muscular blanket of his body.

"Okay, fine. No deservingness. I'm doing it because I want to." She sat up and blew out some of the candles nearest the bed. Safer in the dark. He couldn't see her- well he couldn't if he were Mr. Average, and that was the game they were playing tonight. He caught on and blew a few more out on the opposite side of the bed. The room was colder now, but less inhibiting. "I love you." She whispered. "I just want to give you what you give me."

"I love you. Sweet, sweet girl." He lay back and closed his eyes. Just feel her. Don't use your eyes tonight, not if she wants to hide. First sensation. Hot breath on his chest, riding the midline down, past his navel, to where his erection was practically bursting the invisible seams of his skin. Second sensation, the rustle of the sheets as she glides down...

He makes such soft little noises sometimes, Buffy smiled to herself. That catch of breath, anticipating... Make him wait a little longer, she grinned evilly. She pressed soft, unyielding kisses all over the base of him, making a ring. His hastily swiped breaths accelerated until a moan burst out. "Buffy." He rattled low in his throat.

"Not yet. So much more to do." She echoed his words, making him hiss in annoyance. "Like this." A long slow swipe from base to tip. "And this." A soft nibble down the same wet trail. His groan reverberated.

"You're gonna have a very aggravated man to deal with in a minute, Luv." Spike warned.

"I like pissing you off." She smiled easily. She wrapped her hand around him, pumping agonizingly slowly. "Settle down, I promise I'm gonna make it worth it." She giggled as his hips pressed forward eagerly.

"Don't doubt it, Pet. Jus' can't control the feelin' you give me." And you're not helpin'. Still taste you in my mouth, smell you like I bathed in you, and you glow like a goddess in candlelight. Spike kept his thoughts to himself. He didn't know how much smelling and tasting regular guys mentioned, but with his luck, Buffy would regard it as a reminder of his vampiric predilections. And goddess- not on. Not a good reminder just now.

"I don't want you to control yourself for long. I mean-" She stammered. Well, of course she wanted him to be good, as in nonviolent, but not, like- ow. Her brain hurt from the constant dance of inner explanations and clarifications. Stupid, bad, Buffy brain.

"I know what you mean." His pleasantly raspy voice saved her. "Normal blokes and normal girls. Don't have anything special to control, do we?" He asked, hand teasing some of her long flowing hair, stroking it. What a gorgeous girl beside him, and loving him this time, for real this time.

"No. Not tonight." She whispered. And she let herself go. Devour him. And enjoy it. Because it was the right thing to do when you loved someone.

Remember whatever the hell it is you've just said, mate, Spike gasped as he fought down his third near-eruption. 'Cause something had gotten free in her, something that seemed to live to torment him like he did to her, with the goal of making your one 'n only peak as many times as possible, as fast as possible.

Damn him, he was stubborn. Buffy was surprised to find herself enjoying the salty sweet droplets that were now flowing unceasingly from his swollen tip. She still wasn't pulling any porn star moves, but she was making up for it in over the top enthusiasm. And the feeling of pleasing the person you love. She'd sucked him mercilessly, stroking him at the same time, or stopping one and not the other. And she had evident proof of his arousal, his impending release, lapping it off his tip in every mouthful. But he wouldn't burst, dammit. How was she supposed to play at normalcy when any other guy in the world would have let it loose at least once by now? Maybe she wasn't that good? Well, if you aren't good, you try harder, Buffy thought with a firm nod, and dug her hands in deeper on his clenched buttocks, dragging her mouth ever further onto his perfect, pale length.

No good. He was going to, and almost immediately. But he didn't want to ruin her fun, 'specially not when he'd never been treated like this in his life. What was once cool to the touch almost burned like it was alive, soaked as it was in her heat, drenched in her wet mouth. However, he would not be denied the thing he'd waited for all soddin' day, the two of them uniting, locked at the hips, cumming as one.

"Please." Buffy unlocked her lips and pulled her head back slowly, finding his blue eyes still wild and alive, even in the dim lighting. Spike sounded faint, and strained, and 'please'? Not really a big word in Spike's vocabulary.

"Did I do it wrong?" She asked guiltily.

"No. Far,_ far_ from wrong. I can't take anymore, is all, Pet. Gotta- have you on me."

"Oh. Good." She sounded relieved, and wiped her wet chin lazily on his thigh before crawling up him. "On you?"

"Just need to be inside." He tried to keep his voice steady, but failed.

"Then I want it this way. At least at first." She whispered, pulling the plush linens down and scooting under them quickly, She lay on her back, trying not to let her taut nerves show in the lines of her body. Did she look silly like this? Laying there, knees up just slightly, laying there, arms welcoming him? So-_ traditional_. They called it "missionary". God. The things they did would scare the shit out of any missionary. But she wasn't going to think like that now.

Spike thought the simple pleasures in life were best, really. Big full moon, nice bottle of whiskey, an inside straight, blood pumping, and above all, the woman you love most simply wanting you inside her, while you held her, while you proved just how much you loved her. "Perfect, Baby." He breathed and rolled easily on top of her, nudged himself down, and in, and melted to fit her.

"Perfect." She agreed. "Just what I needed."

The slow, gentle face to face position never lost its wonder for them. "Love you, God, woman, yes!" He emptied into her for the second time, and like the first time, his stiffy still didn't abate.

She whimpered in delight. "More?"

"You sucked me to burstin' three times, an' I didn't burst, so..." He bit her lip softly. "Must have a reserve tank, yeah?"

"Is that a vampire thing?" She asked, temporarily forgetting her self-imposed code of denial for the night.

"Not sure. Ever happen with human blokes?" If she could slip, so could he.

"Not _my_ human blokes. That's for damn sure." She muttered.

"Then must be a vampire thing. Although, I'd bet money that if it were just you an' me together, Luv, no special strings attached, you'd still get me actin' the same way. Can't get enough of you." He lay down more fully on top of her, re-twining her limp legs across his back with one deft twist and push. "You good, then?"

"Sooooo good." She groaned. That ache was refilling her, as often as he vanished it. The tight ache behind her pubic bone, high inside her channel. "Harder?" She whispered. He grunted an enthusiastic yes, and she blushed. Major slut, asking for it harder. We're already shaking the dirt from the walls. Stupid cryptly walls.

"Stop thinkin'." He ordered. "You're mine tonight, an' you want it harder, you'll get it harder." He leaned back, sitting on his calves, forcefully pulling her to him. "You want this?" He grinned savagely.

"I want it, yes, I want it." She gasped.

"Trust me then." He purred. He took her legs and placed one on either of his shoulders, kissing her instep as he did so. "Jus' a minute-" He nuzzled his head against her calf while adjusting her hips- "Pass me that pillow?" She did, and he plumped it under her rear."There, now." He gazed down at her in erotic enjoyment. Such a petite little thing, an' much "abused" by his hungry cock tonight, and yet her pouting pink slit looked tight as ever. "You sore, Pet?"

"God, no!" She cried emphatically. "The opposite."

"Mm, just what I like to hear." He pushed himself forward and into her, filling her as deeply as possible in one quick thrust. She screeched softly in ecstasy. "Like hearin' that, too."

She liked this, looking up at him. He was just so hot to watch. Her own personal hunk-of-the-month centerfold. And yeah, the abs were amazingly defined, but he had those to-die-for thigh muscles, too, and the butt, the hips, the whole package, lean, and long and slender. Another probing thrust, this one doing a bump and grind inside her, reminded her that other parts of him were lean and long- although slender might not be the most appropriate term. His amazingly nimble tongue tucked behind hie teeth in a look of almost angelic concentration, eyes closed and head slowly tilting back. "You know what?" She murmured.

"What?" He grunted, plunging in hard enough to lift her rear off its resting place.

"I know why Mel wanted you. I mean, for one reason. I think, even without the eternal youth thing going for you, that you would have kept a goddess happy forever. Just looking at you. Even for just a few days, that'd be enough." She whispered, looking at him with dewy admiring eyes.

And the girl claimed she wasn't good at the romantic bits, that he was the poetic one. "Thank you, Luv." He whispered. He took his hands off her outer thighs and slid them to her waist, bringing himself closer, leaning down for a kiss. "Would you like to know something, Pet?" He looked deeply into her green eyes, picking out the shadows that cast her perfect face into sharp relief. "I don't see why she even bothered with me, when she might've had you. Don't know how you do it, Luv." He stroked her face with a ghost of a fingertip.

"Do what?" She inquired in a hushed voice.

"Any of it. Anything you do, Precious, and hide it all under that-" He caressed both cheeks more firmly, both hands stroking her peach soft skin, "flawless face."

She blinked hastily, and laughed to cover her embarrassment at his unadulterated adoring gaze. He collapsed on top of her again, and they rocked together, almost to the point of climax, before she clawed him to her more desperately.

"I need you in more. More right now." She mewled.

"Don't know if that's possible, Honey." He chuckled. "Got some tricks up my nonexistent sleeves, but none of 'em are for nights like tonight."

"Wh-what kind of tricks?" She stammered. "What kind of nights?"

" Just don't worry about the tricks, they're nothin' fancy. And as for the kind of nights- normal nights. Jus' bein' sweet an' lovin'."

"You think we can't be sweet and loving unless we pretend?" Her voice quaked suddenly, and she started to push from under him.

"No! An' stop your shovin', Buffy. Listen to me." He looked hard at her, resting on his elbows, propped up a few inches above her, nose to nose. "Whatever I do, I'm loving you."

"Then show me." She challenged.

"No. You don't mean to, Luv, but you'll use it against me later. You won't even want to, but somehow it'll slip out. Or you'll never speak of it again, jus' stew in silence until one day you smack me with somethin' heavy an' tell me I'm a pig."

"Yeah." Buffy pondered. "Yeah. The old Buffy would have done that." She sighed. "Can I have a chance anyway, though?"

Oh, sod it. Second chances were things he could never deny her. Not after he was getting one, a damn near impossible to grant one. "If that's what you want, Luv."

"I do. I just want to make love, however you want to show me. I'm just Buffy, and you're just Spike. You have more experience than me, so you're showing me things. This time, I'll look."

They locked eyes. "You thinkin' about Cliffside? The day in the shower?"

"When you tried to teach me something, and I went into slay-mode? Can't have the enemy behind me and majorly wigged?"

"Yeah, that." He breathed harshly against her cheek, still rutting inside her, less forcefully, but still rubbing the magic spot he'd found that made her blood race like nothing else.

"You're not my enemy. You're my - lover." She dropped "significant other" as it was about to pass her lips. Women in love shouldn't have to be so cautious. "Significant other" could come back out when the real world reared its ugly head.

"Your lover. God, yes, love how that sounds." He fell on her hungrily, devouring her with kisses. "You trust me, don't you?"

"As much as I can." She whispered, wishing for a better answer. But he seemed to accept it. "As much as I can trust myself." She added. "I _am_ trying."

"And succeeding. I'm trying, too, Pet. C'mere. I'll show you lovin'. Lovin' and hard." He smiled broadly, tongue flicking out to cover his lips and tease his incisors. Her body took on the tense, half held back look, and he paused. "Buffy." He said seriously.

"What?" She asked innocently, inwardly berating herself. Told you! Told you he would notice when you do that. You just said you trust him, well, trust-ish, and then you do the scared schoolgirl body lock.

"D'you think I'm gonna bite you? Pull out my fangs an' the forehead?" He shook his head at her. "'Cause you know I _can't_, Luv. And- even if I ever-" He tread cautiously, "ever _did_ vamp, not gonna hurt you. Not gonna bite."

"I know." She said genuinely. And she did. "Just one of my occupational hazards I'm working on." She confessed. "I'm sorry I spoiled the moment."

"Hush, Pet. Didn't ruin anything." He said confidently, more bold than he felt inside.

"Good." She beamed up at him. "Now- teach me something new?"

His mouth descended on hers, and he gave her deep, probing, scalding kisses, kisses that made her forget where she was and even_ who _she was. Everything but that she was with him, and they loved each other. She felt his hands rearrange her limbs and tug her hips, turning her until she was no longer facing him.

"Where'd the kisses go?" She pouted in protest as she found herself now facing the pillow. He laughed once, and his hands were still busy on her, pushing knees in and pulling shoulders back. "Spike, doggy style?" She realized what position she was in, and didn't sound particularly thrilled.

"No. Buffy and Spike style. One of our many." He whispered, mouth suddenly right against her her. His hand swept the shining waterfall of blonde off her neck and over her shoulder, baring the back of her neck to him. "No tensing, Buffy, or you won't enjoy it." He kissed each notch in her spine, base of skull to shoulder blades, slowly sliding his cock into her. She gasped and squeezed down on him. "Lean forward, Baby."

"Why?" She squeaked, hating her suspicious nature.

"You wanted more of me? You'll get more of me like this, now be a good girl, and trust me for just a moment. You don't like, you ask me to get off, and off I get." He licked her earlobe gently. She nodded silently under him, and tilted her gorgeous, ripe cheeks up as her torso shifted down. Spike couldn't resist the urge to fondle them, sliding home the last few millimeters inside her.

Wow. That made a difference, small though it was. Never felt so full, Buffy winced pleasurably. Maybe when she'd been on top, but this was a different angle. His voice, dark and decadent on her skin, murmured, "There, Luv. That's all of me. You've got all of me inside you now." She moaned softly and clamped down, holding him fast. "Not even necessary, Luv, though you can squeeze me like that forever, 'cause it's bleedin' fantastic. But I don't wanna leave. I might be in you all the way just now, but you're always inside me, Pet. Fill me up completely."

"Yes, Baby, me, too." She admitted, lost in his words. Hell with the consequences. "Hard. Take me nice and hard, and love me, and don't you ever, ever go." The words rolled off her tongue, and her hips rolled back onto him, bathing his cock in her juice and tumbling both of them into a sea of movement.

Oh, he'd been planning to keep it slow, steady, and deep, make it burn in her, ache building until she exploded around him. Sod that. Not when she was dancing with him like this. And his girl was a fast learner. Show her the steps once, and she'd outclass and outperform anyone else on the floor.

We're like one of those engine thingies in science. Perpetual motion, I feed him, and he feeds me, she managed to find a coherent thought in a sea of pleasure. They were though. For every thrust he gave, she pushed back, and every push she gave made him growl and dig himself in deeper. "God! Yes, more!" She cried, clutching the pillow.

"You're not hurtin' yourself?" He gasped out.

"No! Need you." She gasped. "Harder, please, I want it." She urged. His hands shifted, and his weight realigned. One hand snaked up to tweak her nipple, the other down to tease her clit.

Oh hell, she was torture. Her spasming back, and the little tremors of her pussy as it clenched him, and the full body writhing as his fingers had their way with two of her most sensitive nubs, was gonna end him. "Flatten out, I can do this better." He told her, talking as he was doing, his hips forcing hers down to the mattress. One strong forearm went across her chest, pressing hard into both breasts, trapping the nipples between the muscular arm and the softness of the heated sheets. The other stayed firmly ensnared between her thighs, where three fingers shamelessly rubbed her pussy lips, always focused on her bead. "Too much?" He asked as she moaned and let out tight half-sob.

I'm trapped. Completely trapped, and he's in me. Pinning me face down on this bed, and arms locked around me. Why aren't I scared? He was behind her, and she liked it. It wasn't a scary, "Oh, no, someone's behind you!" type of way, it was more "He's behind me. All the way. Cheering me on, supporting me." And boy, did she need someone in her corner who could do things like this.

Am I forgetting my sacred duty, slayer instincts and all, letting this not-quite human possess me like this? Oh God, I hope so... "Not too much. Spike, so close, are you?" She asked breathlessly.

"Soon as you let yourself go again." He whispered. He buried in her to the hilt, and did all the work, his body molding to hers too tightly to give her much room for thrusting back. But her dancing walls made up for her lack of external movement. "I love you." He whispered. Please say it back, he begged inside his mind.

"Love you, too." She gasped out. One of her hands freed itself, worming loose from his protecting arms, and struggled down. Her fingers met his drenched ones at their joined bodies. "I love you, Spike." She curled her fingers around his, and relaxed completely. "Just what I needed."

"Yes." He snarled, and pushed in once more, and just held it. The squeezing, suctioning rhythm of her chasm milked him, but he waited. Waited for her to let loose first, working herself away on him as she was.

"Found one piece." She gasped out suddenly, and a shuddering spasm ripped through her, setting off a chain reaction. He roared in her ear suddenly, a roar that was still human, but sent tinglies down her spine. His essence flooded her again, and this time, he began to soften.

"Found a piece? I helped you find a piece?" Spike demanded, rolling her over. Bugger the tender cuddlin', he had to know, right now.

"Wasn't empty anymore." She smiled up exhaustedly.

That was better than the triple crown of climaxes he'd run tonight. Gave my girl one of her missing pieces. Promised I would, an' I did. Didn't fail her. God, yes, thank you. Kept one promise to my lady. "Was it- was it me, really, though?" He asked insistently. Good as this felt, it'd crush him if it turned out to be mere self-delusion.

"No." She stroked his face softly, the love light in her jade pools positively blinding him. "It was _us_."

"Even better." He wrapped her up in his arms, and pulled the covers back over them. She nestled down in his arms, her hot, wet body to his warm, slightly damp one. "My Buffy."

"My Spike." She rejoined.

"We're the puzzle, Luv. The both of us, workin' together. You keep trustin' me, an' I'll help you find all the pieces you need."

"I know." She yawned and looked up at him with a sleepy smile. "You're just what I needed."

"Just what I needed." He echoed softly. He curled himself around her, head on hers, keeping the rest of the world at bay.


	4. Chapter 4

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold._

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, iSage, Idiosyncratic Delusions, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, are other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them._

_Reviews please!_

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part IV

He woke up first this time, and stared down at his girl. Warm, and sweetly musky, filled with him and his love. Better get my star-struck gazin' in now, before she wakes up, gets all squirrely that someone is still there the mornin' after, still lookin' like he's in love. He ran his finger a millimeter away from her sleeping cheek, not touching, but still able to feel her heat. Funny, really. Like them. Get awful close, but sod all if you could really keep your hands on her.

Buffy stirred slightly, Slayer tinglies doing half-assed buzzes along her sleeping spine. Vampire? No, not panicky, warning-y enough for a vampire. Unless it's him. She opened her eyes slowly. Spike was looking at her with a longing expression that he quickly tried to hide. Like he knows I'm about to run or push him off. Like when I used to dream about heaven, and wake up with it fading away.

"Good morning." He said softly.

"Hi." She held open her arms and he immediately shifted back, lower into the bed, to enfold her in his embrace and fit into hers.

"Mmmhm. Mhmm hmmhmm." He gave that chuckle that was so uniquely his own, kind of dark and syrupy, muffled through his lips as they rolled into a pursed grin.

"You sound like the cat the ate the canary." Buffy accused with a smirking giggle of her own.

"Never eaten a canary before." Spike mused, nuzzling deeper into her neck, kissing her. And by God, she let him. She more than let him, she bloody well returned it. Soft moans vibrated the column of her throat and tickled his lips, made him smile against her skin. "But I am right chuffed." He licked the tip of one earlobe gently before reaching her mouth.

"If that's British for happy, me too." She whispered.

"You are?" Spike cursed blatantly inside his head. Of all the oafish things to let slip past his lips, he let that idiotic little question get loose.

"Uh-huh." She smiled up at him and sighed. "Happy for me."

"I'm happy, too, Luv." He assured, stroking her hair back. She didn't seem miserable, nor faking her calm smile. Maybe tonight's love making had been "normal" enough that she wasn't going to try to run. Well, steel up the loins- not in the literal sense, that happened even while he was asleep, but figurative sense, and give it a try.

His hands were firm, but not grabby, as they pulled her close, and then rolled her back, fingers digging in gently to her rear and hips. He stared at her as if he expected her to challenge him, push him away. The only guy who fits you, still here when you wake up, and he's ready to go again. And damn, he's good. You know he's the monster, but what kind of monster have you been acting like that he looks so tentative?Can't have that. "I love you." She let her hands drift up his perfectly corded arms and end on the shoulders, not what you'd call broad, just perfect for her though. Slim but muscled. All over slim and muscled, dear God, and all for her.

"I love you." He repeated reflexively, thankful that sometimes his oral autopilot was useful. 'Cause havin' her say it first still shocked the hell out of him each time. "Buffy." He prayed her name, and heard her whisper his. She parted her legs and wrapped them around his own. They shared a silent groan as he fitted into her snug channel and shuddered into the hilt.

This was almost more surreal than Cliffside. Looking up at him, the guttering torch providing the only light in this underground grave/bedroom, in utter silence. Slow, steady, he didn't even have to take his unnecessary breaths, they weren't working each other hard this time. Her moans were mere breezes, born and dying in her throat before they actually reached the point where they'd turn into something audible.

And it was still good, Buffy thought in amazement. She watched him swallow, and his mouth trembled once as he tried to make his lips form words, but he gave up, as he had so many times during this peaceful, intimate encounter. He didn't want to break the silent spell, he'd just kiss her, lock his lips to hers, pouring out unspoken volumes.

I don't know what this is. 'Cause it's never been quite like this. Plenty of times when the girl took it out of me to the point where I couldn't speak, or when we were feelin' awkward enough not to talk- this is new. She arched wordlessly into him, and pulled him close, so soft and so passionate all at once. My girl. She's findin' her pieces, and she's comin' home. Comin' home to me, where she belonged all this time, stubborn thing.

One minute her hands were on his hips and his hands were clutching the mattress on either side of her head, and then she was staring down at him, her hands on his shoulders, his hands lying softly on her hips. She'd thought being on top would make her lose normal girl mode (if this weird gentle sex thing was normal for someone like the person she'd become) and roar back to being the Slayer. Nope. She didn't pound, she didn't slam, she didn't even move much. Just rocking and gently undulating her hips on his impressively hard, turgid staff was enough to make them both writhe in pleasure.

The way he looks up at me- that's adoration, that's acceptance.

The way she looks down on me, that's love, that's forgiveness.

"I love you." He took the risk first this time, but he knew there was no real "risk" involved.

"I love you." She clamped down and he held her in place, thrusting in her hard and fast for just a moment, pushing her to her precipice and falling over it immediately behind her.

"Wow." She looked at him with flushed, glowing cheeks, sinking onto his chest, and letting him hold her. "We do it all."

"That we do, Pet." He traced her back with feathering finger tips. "That was bloody amazing. Brilliant. Never-" He swallowed his words. No need to make her feel some obligation or some even more complicated, emotionally tangled tie to him.

"Never for me either." She smiled. Never felt like that. Good and soft all at once, without losing that edge, without losing normal. She was insane. She couldn't feel all that at once. She must be crazy. Spike sighed deeply under her and held her ever tighter. Crazy? Who cares, if this is what comes with it?

"Sun'll be up soon." He whispered. She stirred with a groan. "Come on. got you your own girly body wash, you've got your towel. Quite an improvement from four minutes in the ice water and a black tee shirt to dry off with." He encouraged her up, even though it was far from what he wanted to do. "Mind if I get in and warm you up?"

"No." She giggled and blushed. Blushed! Geez, not like he hadn't seen every inch of her. Possibly some inches she'd never seen herself. Yeah, but you haven't let your guard down- really down- around anyone since Angel, and even dropping it slightly with Spike, makes you feel all vulnerable. "How much longer until the sun comes up?" She stretched and twisted out any kinks left in her spine after their amazing love-a-thon.

" 'Bout 40 minutes, I'd guess." He watched her bend, and felt his cockstand start all over again. They would have to do something about this, really. Like keep her naked and in his bed for 24 hours a day, at least for a month or two until he learned some self-control. Which really, not a good thing in this case. "Time enough for-"

"Forty minutes! Spike, we left the- they saw us- I almost never patrol all night! Two nights in a row- ughh! Bad, bad, Buffy! Dawn! I have to-" She was hopping on one leg, putting her jeans on, "-be there when she wakes up!"

"Steady, Luv, steady. You're not bad, alright? We'll- we'll get an alarm clock. Set it for 1:00 or 2:00, so you're always home in plenty of time, and you can get some kip and get Niblet off to school." He slowly pushed his legs into his black jeans and picked up last night's shirt and socks.

"An alarm clock?" She paused, shirt halfway down her naked breasts, head cocked at him. "An _alarm clock_?"

"Yeah. Ring ring, wakey wakey?" He spoke in a patronizing tone, and waited for the slap to come as she inched closer to him. She did connect her hand with his face- but it was an admiring stroke.

"That's really thoughtful of you." She grinned, and pecked his lips.

"Buffy- bra." He replied, completely off track, but her little nips were staring at him, all naked and in need of kisses. They would still be there, tempting him from under her shirt, but a braless Buffy, just sitting soft and ready- didn't bear thinking about, not if he ever wanted to get his zip done up.

"Oh- where is it?"

"It's here in the bed someplace-" He dug around for a minute. "You know how just yesterday you were havin' a little hysterics over 'smellin' of sex'?" She looked at him with wide eyes. "No, you don't, I mean you do, to me, Luv, but are you sure a shower isn't in order? Especially since you left with me after we danced, and you're comin' home at daybreak?" He backpedaled slightly, not liking the silence of her gaze. "Not that they'd connect the two, not in our case, but-"

"I don't have time. If I shower now, I'll end up there with wet hair anyway. I'd rather just go take a shower as soon as I get home, and if anyone asks I'll tell them I got into a full body brawl with a demon." She suddenly gave him a saucy smile. "Kinda did."

"Alright, long as you're sure. And that'll explain the hair, as well."

"My hair?"

"Not as smooth as it once was, Luv, but I quite fancy it." He smiled at her worshipfully. He liked the sexy, ravished look on her, she should wear it more often, remind herself that she could remove the "straight" from her "laced".

"Oh, God." She moaned, putting her face in her hands. "I have a hairbrush, I'll brush it on the way." She jammed her feet into her shoes and snatched the brush from its place beside the candles.

"I even had juice for you." He grumbled as they ascended the ladder.

"I'll have some tomorrow." She grunted, hoisting the slab from their hiding place.

"So, there's a tomorrow then?" He asked.

"Yeah. I guess." She gave him a smile of sweet uncertainty and he didn't press her.

"It'll keep." He grinned in return. She was out of his door, into the misty purple of fading night, and he was hard on her heels. "Slayer!" He caught her arm. "Gonna run away so late in the game?"

"What are you-"

"Walkin' you home."

"You won't make it back in time." Buffy protested, still walking.

"Don't care. I like to walk you home." His voice dared her to take a kick, mock one of his remaining vestiges of good manners.

She groaned and rolled her eyes. " Don't come crying to me if you burst into flames."

"Yes, Mummy." He sneered and she walked faster. He curled his tongue back and pushed his teeth forward in a blistering smirk. Loved this girl. Built for him. Sweet and sensual if you found the right combination to unlock her heart, and powerful and explosive when you pissed her off. Someone he could love, and someone to keep him from turning into a broody pillock like Angel, or a doting, weakened wreck, like Riley. And as for Parker- no comparison. The boy wasn't meant to breathe, playin' games like that. Soddin' chip.

"What are you brooding for? I'm letting you come with me!" Buffy demanded.

"Not brooding!" Spike denied emphatically. "I don't brood. I plot and connive."

"You aren't plotting and conniving now, are you?"

"Well- er- yeah. But it's nothing you'd object to, I swear." On my good conduct medal and my O.B.E., he added snarkily inside his head.

"I doubt that." She muttered.

"No worries, nothin' I'll ever act on." He palmed her back and then slid his hand down her arm until their fingers twined. She tossed him that half-smile that melted him every time, and they walked the rest of the way to her house in silence.

"Sweet dreams, Luv." He circled his thumb on her palm, and snatched a quick kiss before she could protest. His eyes bulged wide and then closed blissfully as she darted her hand up to the back of his neck and held the kiss for a few stolen seconds.

"Thanks for walking me home." She murmured. He nodded once, and pressed her hands in his, fingers drifting slowly down before he tore himself away.

Buffy walked into the kitchen, dying for a drink after early morning sprint, and then the shower would come next. She looked out the back door window, watched Spike's figure stalking quickly through the backyard. You watched too many men walk away, Buffy Summers, she said to herself. And the one who wants to stay- you won't let him?

He heard her voice, faint, just on the edge of his range. If he didn't always listen just for her unique tone and heartbeat, he'd have missed it. He abruptly retraced his steps, getting slightly antsy now, as the first pink tinge of sunrise made itself felt on the bare patch of skin between his collar and neck. Not enough to burn, but enough to remind him. He trotted up to the back porch door. "What's wrong, Pet? The household okay?"

"Everyone's asleep- I think." She tugged him into the houses, stifling his surprised comments with her cupped hand over his mouth. "Down stairs. Basement. Now."

"Mm, quite like the sound of that." He purred. She rolled her eyes and humphed "No time for this", and marched him down the stairs.

"Look, remember the shower thing?" She had him tucked in the darkness under the stairwell, standing in the cement shadows.

"You don't have any evidence, Luv, not that humans could pick up on, I swear it." He sighed, running his hand through his already finger-raked hair.

"No. I offered the shower- to you. Warm water?"

"Once everyone's out of the house, you said. Which they aren't. I sense three sleepers. Niblet's out like a light." He smiled in spite of himself.

"But Tara and Willow have morning classes. Dawn leaves for school."

"Ohh, a naughty day in?" He reached for her, and she swatted his hands off.

"No! Just a shower. An- and you could hang out with Dawn when she gets home. But they're will be no 'naughty'!"

"Aces with me, Luv." He looked around the basement, a quite familiar place after the amount of times he'd snuck into it without her permission, and the number of times he'd come down to retrieve things for Dawn in the months of Buffy's absence. He knew where all the photo albums were, the Christmas decorations, even knew how to work the soddin' dryer and he'd recently dragged a drowned demon from its depths. "I'll make myself cozy down here until I get the all clear from you, right then?"

"I- I mean, it's not that I-" She trailed off guiltily. "I'm trying?" She offered feebly. But one day he was going to get fed up with "trying", and demand she just "do".

"I'm right impressed. And it isn't like I mind dark underground places, Luv. I know you're worried about what the wiccas would say. Dawn wouldn't say anything, she'd just break the sound barrier with her squeakin' and yippin'."

"She's got that bad habit." Buffy grinned. "I'm gonna go up now. I know there isn't a lot to do down here, I-"

This time he waved her to silence. "Shush, now. Plenty to do. You go shower, get a bit of kip, an' I'll see you when the coast is clear." They kissed briefly, and she darted guiltily upstairs. Spike sighed. Silly cow. He didn't care if he had to hide to be near her. She was doin' her best. And besides, he knew where the sleeping bags were and Joyce'd had a big collection of paperback romances and mysteries stashed somewhere. He'd have something to read if his little fantasy of ravaging Buffy in her own bed got boring. He snorted as he considered that idea. Hah. Could think about that for days, let alone hours, and never tire of it.

_Set the alarm, set the alarm, set the alarm_, Buffy chanted to herself as she headed to her room._ Do not get distracted by the thought of the hottie in the basement. Because the hottie in the basement should totally be up here with you... No! Bad idea, bad idea, bad thoughts, bad hands running all over you in such good ways, belonging to a pretty decent guy, as soulless guys go. _To heck with the joys of the hot water. She smacked her alarm clock into position and crept to the shower, letting it go to full cold. I totally should have just done this at Spike's, she shivered.

Spike would be up here soon. And then he'd get to enjoy a nice, hot shower, which he so totally deserved. Maybe she'd come in and join him. Since no one else would be around and all. Even in the ice water, her fingers started inching to the hot spot between her thighs. She jerked her hand back abruptly._ He's turned me into a total nympho! _She resolutely lathered, ignoring the wetness that was trickling from within, a loud voice in her mind berating her for wanting him so much, for actually having _had_ him so much already, and not being satisfied. A much quieter, sneakier voice reminded her that she was already quite satisfied, that's why she craved more. And that she was just waiting, no need to soothe herself, she'd have what she wanted from the real source soon enough.

Dawn, Tara, and Willow looked pleased and surprised to find her downstairs, shoving eggs around the pan. "I can make omelets, might as well do it." She said cheerfully.

"Buffy, this is great!" Willow beamed, pulling plates out. "Did you get any sleep? I didn't hear you come in."

"Oh, plenty of sleep." She laughed, a slightly strained laugh. Don't think about sleeping in his arms, feeling loved, feeling warm, and natural even with someone so completely _un_natural. "Oh! You guys will never, ever believe what Spike and I did last night!"

"What did you do?" Willow looked suddenly scared, Dawn leaned forward eagerly, and Tara took a cautious step nearer to her partner.

"We broke up a jewel robbery at the museum! Isn't that so cool?" Buffy blinked at them suspiciously after making her announcement. "Why? What did you think we did?"

Her friends and sister babbled nervously, a chain of half cocked explanations of innocent, implausible activities that she and Spike might have engaged in. It only confirmed her worst fears. _They thought you made out with him. Maybe more. They might even think you- how dare they think that about me? _Buffy felt indignation flare and die in the same second._ Why do think that? Uhh- maybe cause it's _true_? _

Pressed for details, she explained, leaving out the reason for Spike cracking Warren's jaw, but giving all the other juicy details she could think of. "Warren thought you were the robot at first?" Tara shook her head. "He has some nerve. I bet Spike nailed him for that." Buffy blushed.

"No big deal." She watched Willow and Dawn's mouths drop open and she hurried to explain. "I mean, yeah, that robot was wrong, but it had a purpose, right? And Spike and I talked about it."

"Does Spike still have all his limbs after your 'talk'?" Willow asked hesitantly.

"I can forgive some things." She twitched her shoulders slightly, uncomfortable with this scrutiny. Under close examination she tended to panic, turn defensive, or retreat into her mindset of "expelled from heaven, living in hell". "If what he said was true. That he- he never treated her like she was me. And after-"

"After you were gone, he couldn't look at her. He freaked out if she ever smiled at him, or tried to hold his hand. Willow had to reprogram her a dozen times to get all of the lovey-dovey phrases out of her." Dawn jumped in. Willow and Tara nodded.

"Forgiveness is good." Tara encouraged. Willow looked at her askance and Tara put her hands on her softly curving hips, giving her a pointed glare. "Forgiveness is good, _isn't it,_ _honey_?"

"Oh. Oh! Yes, forgiveness, especially for people who've done really dumb things that they really wished they hadn't, or didn't understand the consequences of, say spells, o-or resurrections, or maybe building robots, totally should be forgiven. I gotta get to class!" Willow looked dizzy with guilt.

"Will, it's okay." Buffy patted her arm. "Well, okay enough. Spike knows I'll always hate that he did it, and part of me will always be grateful he did it, 'cause it worked out in the end." She cast a nervous glance towards the basement door, hoping Spike wasn't waiting on the other side with a big smirk and ready to remind her word for word what she said, in case she ever wanted to use it against him. Not that she would now...

Willow calmed back down and ate her omelet with a hopeful smile, prattling on about more applications she had found and filled out in Buffy's name, Tara turned on the television, hoping to catch some morning news coverage of the museum situation. Dawn seemed reluctant to leave, catching her sister's nervous glances towards the basement door, and getting a contemplative frown on her face. "Dawnie, come on, gotta leave soon." Tara reminded her.

"I packed a lunch! Look, I even packed Willow and Tara food!" Buffy held up three paper bags. "Apples and sandwiches. I wanted to pack chips, but I- I need to shop."

"Oh, no, it's our turn." Willow quickly spoke up.

"You don't have to do that, Will." Buffy blushed. "We're good for money, I'm just bad with the shopping. You know, all the training Giles throws at me, he never did happen to explain how other Slayers managed to kill things all night and find time to run errands." She sighed and handed out the lunches. "Probably staked and skinned deer and wild boar. Food and clothes, all in one kill..."

"We live here, and we help out." Tara said softly, but firmly. Willow rose and put her hand on Tara's waist, nodding quietly.

"I-" Buffy shrugged. "Thanks. Umm. I'll do it next week then." Dawn and the witches left for school and college, exchanging quick pats on elbow as they said goodbye to her, "nothing's wrong" pats, touches you give when everything's weird, but you try to pretend it isn't.

Dawn paused by her sister as she washed the frying pan, the other two occupants slowly trailing form the kitchen. "What did you two do last night? At the Bronze? Was it really just one dance?"

"Yeah. But things are still good. We had a nice time- for us. A little slaying, a little justice serving..."

"Kisses?" Dawn hissed.

"Maybe. Nothing serious. Don't getting your hopes up, okay?"

"I won't. You're so stupid about boys." Dawn shook her head. "Good thing he likes a challenge. He always said he liked your 'spark'." She cast another speculative look at her sister, then the basement door. "Have a good day. Tell Spike I said hi." Dawn kissed her sister's cheek and left through the back door.

Smug little brat, Buffy pouted to herself. She deliberately waited for 10 minutes, making the kitchen counters spotless, all the dishes away. I don't care if he's down there. In my house. He shouldn't be down there, in my house! Even if I do love him, and he loves me, it's too soon. Dawn would think- oh God. Don't even think about what Dawn would think.

"Hullo, Cutie." Spike's voice was soft and amused behind her.

"You were supposed to wait down there!" Buffy whirled and glared at her platinum pest. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

"I thought the headmaster was in his study, Luv." Spike grinned.

"Eww! Is that a-a penis joke?"

"No! Christ, Buffy, I'm not as randy as that- not all the time, anyway. It's a school thing, sorry." He shrugged. "Knew you were the only one in the house. Felt just your heartbeat. Then I waited for a bit, snuck up, listened, waited a bit more, and then decided to come see my girl."

Stupid vampire. How can someone so cool to the touch make you all warm and buttery feeling by just saying the two words "my girl"? "That wasn't the plan." She made one last stab at anger.

"I'm lousy with plannin', you know that." He rested his hands, one on her shoulder, one just under her chin. " Want me to go back down? Or, want me to head home? I can."

Damn him. He would make her admit it. He was good at that, but yet, she knew, if she just asked him, he'd do it. "Shower's upstairs." Oh, how lame. Of course it's upstairs, he knew this house as well as she did, possibly better, having snuck into it so many damn times.

"Is it?" He managed to look genuinely surprised. "Don't recall, Luv. Show me?"

"Spike..." She resisted halfheartedly.

"Show me. Show me you love me?" He pulled her hands in his and walked backwards, heading towards the stairs. Dangerous thing to say, really. Kind of forcing her along, aren't you? Didn't you promise not to put demands on her? That was a hell of a demand. "No, sorry, Luv, not thinkin'. I know you love me. You've probably got loads to- umf!" Her tackle knocked him flat to the floor, her kiss silenced his apologetic mouth.

"I'll show you where it is. But I'm not getting in. Or-or looking. Or anything! There will be no Buffy-Spike sex in this house. This is a child-in-residence residence and it's a pure environment."

He let her pull him up, and followed her up the stairs, biting back his replies to the contrary. "Pure?"

"Pure! As in 'no sex'!"

"Except for lesbian witches?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Shut up." She muttered and flushed. "Seriously, shut up, because I try, I try reeeallly heard, not think about Willow that way."

"Give you something else to take your mind off it, if you like." He closed the few stair steps between them, and pushed himself hard to her rear. Key word being hard, his bits not being as rule-abiding as the rest of him. So, barely at all.

She ignored him, or pretended to, and double-timed up the remaining stairs, into the bathroom. "There you go. Towels on the left." She smiled, all teeth, and trying to keep it from her eyes.

Minx. Fine. Spike slowly slid his duster off and handed it to her. "Put this somewhere for me, Luv? Don't want it to get steamed. Plannin' on gettin' it plenty hot in here."

Innuendo or not? She didn't care, she just had to get out of the room, where there was so much of him in so little space.

She scarpered, out of the bathroom, into her room. Maybe the idea was too much for her, maybe she wasn't just playing hard to get, playing it uptight. He looked at her as she carefully put his long black coat on the bed. Her bed. His cock jumped in its confines, but he was rapidly losing his lust. Only man ever to be with her here was that git, Riley. Mr. Whitebread, in all his mediocre glory. Prolly havin' a bugger of a time tryin' to reconcile her leap from happy and "normal" with human boy to happy in heaven, and now back to Earth, all cold and cruel, and in love with someone soulless, someone she hadn't even admitted was a person, hadn't admitted could love until a week or so ago. He sighed. "Buffy, Pet. I'm always gonna be over eager for you, alright? But in your own time, Sweets." He smiled gently and closed the door.

He called_ her_ unpredictable? What happened to Mr. Crotch Happy Vampire? He morphed into sweet, almost gentlemanly, as easily as he blinked. Or maybe not. Maybe he had to try. _Try. Like you're supposed to do._ She heard the water run, and licked her lips nervously. No sex. Okay. So, didn't mean she couldn't come in. Just to be close to him, prove that she wasn't freaking out. Much. About him, anyway.

This was nice, not near as much fun as he'd anticipated. His stiffy was begging for her attention, or his attention, something. However, releasing himself in here was bound to be a no-no to the Slayer. Actually- he got a good look at the place, exposed and soaking up the hot water in the little ceramic haven. Not entirely wank friendly, pink razors, four different types of floral shampoo, bottles of bath salts, bath gels, conditioners, and four of those little bath puffs in different colors. The only thing that would make this place go from boutique to boudoir was-

"Is it okay if I come in? In a purely not sexy way?" Speak of the she-devil. He yanked open the shower curtain in pleased surprise, beaming at her.

_Ohh, so need to rethink that statement. _Non-sexy? Hard, hot, muscled lover standing naked and wet in front of her. "Hi?" She coughed out.

"Come to visit?" He licked his lips.

"Just to visit. No-"

"No you an' me, makin' the beast with two backs."

"The what beast?" So much for sweet and gentlemanly.

"Lord, woman, have you read anything besides your girly magazines?" He threw up one arm, and that only seemed to make her squirm more, watching his muscles jump.

"I read! I love to read. I just have no time. Plus, hello, dead lately? I'll catch up on my reading the _next _time I die, just gimme a freakin' booklist." She grumped.

He ignored her outburst. "It's from Shakespeare._ Othello_. Othello and his bird, Desdemona, were heatin' up their bridal bed. Forbidden lovers, actually. He was black and military, she was all white and dainty. Not accepted back in the day."

"Oh." She blushed. "That's the one Shakespeare play I actually did read, well, skim, in high school. But other things were going on and I must've forgotten that line."

"Would you-" He stopped himself. No, she probably would not like a demonstration. He smiled inside himself. Besides, think we did that, just last night.

"Would I what?" She slowly slid her skin tight leggings down and kicked them off around her ankles, revealing smooth lavender undies.

"Would you like to come in? I'll behave." She flicked the lights, room going dark, and he heard the rest of her clothes rustling off. She was quiet, breathing accelerated just slightly, blood pumping hard in that sweet little hollow between her hips, flooding out the juices he craved.

"Just hold me sometimes?" She murmured softly, stepping in beside him.

"I can do that, Pet. I'd love do that sometimes." He folded her in his arms, trying not to feel her silky skin pressing on his own. Her fingers trailed down, found him, and delicately ran over his tip. "Wh- whoa, Buffy, you're sending mixed signals, Pet." Behavin' himself would be unmanageable if she did things like that.

"Sorry. Do you want me to stop?" Just a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"That depends on if you want _me_ to stop." He set his teeth. She let her hands grip his shaft and pump once.

"This isn't sex, right?" She whispered timidly.

"No." Not yet. If you want to play, Luv, you've found your match, he smirked in the sauna-like darkness. "This isn't sex, either." Two fingers, down like a shot across her wet belly and between her pouting lips, circling her nub. She gasped and he caught her lower back with one strong forearm, letting her lean back slightly. "Rest on me." He breathed, and like her own personal Pavlovian bell, she obeyed. One finger inside her, softly, feeling new ridges of swollen satin under his touch. Poor lamb, she was so wet, and denyin' herself her pleasure. Not to mention the fact that he'd apparently overstimulated the hell out of her. He wondered if humans always presented this changing canvas, and if so, he was adding to the list of reasons Buffy would never bore him.

Her hips bucked once on him, sliding him in deeper, and then pushed away. "No, I-" She was breathless and he took advantage. Kissed her back into silence, second finger joining the first, and smoothly gliding in and out of her. "It isn't sex, Luv. Although-" He pushed his hardness against her splaying legs, finding her nub with his tip, sending a jolt through them both. "_Nothin'_ we do is sex. Making love. 'Cause I love you, Buffy."

"I love you." She responded and jerked his wrist, making his fingers slide away. "If you_ ever_ tell anyone about this..." She threatened.

"Of course I won't." He soothed, pride taking a hit, but only a small one. Didn't think he wanted Bit to ever find out he'd ever been hot and heavy in here, not unless he was part of the household, then it would be his right. This was just some quick fumble, probably they'd cum, and then it'd be days before Buffy calmed herself down enough to admit it was okay, and they'd take another step forward. Loved to dance with her, just wished she'd pick up the pace sometimes.

She was still staring at him, he could see her in the dark as clearly as in the daylight. "I promise I won't. Alright? Trust me to do this one thing for you, Luv. I won't tell."

She went down so suddenly he thought she'd fainted at first. He was bending to catch her until her head bumped into his thigh, and her sweet suckling mouth latched on. "Bloody buggerin' hell." He gasped. She gulped around him once and he whimpered softly at her touch and the sucking motion of her inner cheeks.

"Shh. I'm learning how to do this better." She scolded, and returned to work. I must be good at this, she thought shortly. He was sprawled back against the shower wall, legs braced and both hands lightly resting on head.

"Buffy, Luv, Buffy, Jesus Holy Christ, Luv!" He rambled, giving in to her touch. "You don't have to." Green eyes glared up at him reproachfully. "You want to?" She nodded on him, making him groan softly. "Have at it, then."

In a matter of minutes she felt him tightening up inside her mouth, his ab muscles rigid against her cheek as she slurped contentedly on him. He was just gorgeous, and devoted to her, not leaving her. Her fingers wandered down to stroke her slit, take away some of her own tension, something he'd begun and she'd left unsatisfied.

"Here, don't do that." He panted when he realized that only one hand was digging into his buttocks instead of two. "Don't do that." He repeated, prying away with intense regret. She darted back down and sucked hard on his tip, lapping up his sweet pre-spendings. "I'll do it for you." He moved to pick her up, and her hands clamped down firmly on his forearms.

"Inside me." She gasped.

"No." He shook his head. "I do want to, but you don't. Didn't."

"But- I changed my mind. It's still a bad idea, and yeah, I'm gonna get all bitchy later, but I want you in me."

"Well, at least we've moved into being honest." He sighed. "I can make you cum in other ways, Pet, you know I can." He twirled his tongue for emphasis.

"I know." She whispered. I'm not going to beg him, he's not like my end all, be all. He's just Spike. And he loves me and I love him. But it's not some big huge thing. _Liar_.

Damn his nobility all to hell. He could have had her on him, around him, and he wasn't taking the chance. She relaxed in his arms and he lifted her slowly. Still, tasting the juice from this flower was the next best thing...

Her legs forced down on his arms with surprising force, knees over his elbows, locking hard enough to make him drop her slightly in surprise, and she plunged down on him, sitting her sweet cheeks on either side, slick pink paradise engulfing him. "You play dirty." He said once he could find his voice.

"Would you believe I slipped?" She asked with a tiny grin.

"Is that the story we're going with?" He asked, wrapping her legs around his middle. She squeaked a plaintive little yes, and he chuckled. "Wanted me that much?"

"Could you not rub it in?"

"How 'bout if I grind it in instead?" Actions mimicking his words.

"You've gotten awfully comfortable with this, and I'm not sure I like it." She pouted.

"Is it wrong for me to trust you a bit? Gonna shove me away when it's done?" His tone was light, but there was a current of genuine concern underneath.

"No." She promised in a completely uncertain voice. "No." More clear.

"Then I'm gonna act like I'm enjoyin' myself, Luv, because I sure as hell am."

Showers filled with bottles and brushes aren't the most conducive things for love making. After knocking the shower caddy off for the second time, Spike grunted his disapproval, and unceremoniously shoved the curtain back with one hand, the other hand still cupping her rear as she rode him, stepped out of the shower, and deposited her on the floor.

"Not the floor!" She protested.

"Have to give you a proper seein' to, and if one more flippin' bottle of girly shampoo falls off and hits me..." He seethed. "Distracts me." That wasn't true, of course. Nothin' could distract him from her, but it did spoil things when a ruddy great bottle of floral scented goo smacked your beloved on the top of her head, or bounced off your torso, a little too close to the wedding tackle. "This is better, init, Luv?" He sighed.

She shouldn't let him, really. Grinding her back into the floor like this. But then his hands came under and took the strain, protected her, and she lost her whining train of thought. "I was going to let you cum in my mouth again." She whispered. "I wasn't going to make you stop. I didn't expect you to 'see to me', that isn't why I did it."

"I didn't think you'd tease, Luv." He reassured. " I knew you were giving me a treat. But I do like this better."

"Really?" She sounded hopefully pleased.

"Yes, silly Slayer. It's the best thing in the world." He kissed her gently. "When you're making love with me, and you let me inside. You take me inside. Like you can stand to touch me." He ran a knuckle gently over her brow and down her cheekbone.

"I love to touch you." She caressed his neck and shoulders, down his back and pulled his waist more firmly to hers. "I love you, Spike."

"I'll always love you." He sped up a touch, bringing her closer. "And I'll make you feel this way Pet, safe, and loved, and burstin' to cum, as often as you let me."

"Feel that way now." She hinted, arching. They shared a soft chuckle, and started their dance with renewed rhythm, finally climaxing as one, hands digging into one another, as they slid on the smooth floor.

"Oh wow. Wow." She panted, head falling back. "Good job."

"You, too." He rolled off her and ran a hand over her torso, giving each breast a slight squeeze on his way. She was slick, with both their juices, and the steam of the room, the hot water of the shower, the sheen of her sweat. He could lick her all over and never go thirsty. "My beautiful girl."

She met his adoring gaze with one of melting affection. He thinks I'm beautiful. He thinks I'm beautiful, all sweaty and gross and- "Shower!" She gasped and darted back up. "Well, get back in with me, here, you can use my scrubby, I'll use Dawn's- no wait, ewww, I can't scrub this off with Dawn's, you can share mine." She was in and lathering before he could even sit up.

"Scrub what off?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Oh, Spike, don't do this,_ please_. I love you, I love what we did, but I can't be all sweaty and sticky when they get home. I just can't." Her voice rose to an insistent plea.

"Of course, I understand." He sighed. "You know they'd never know."

"It's all in my head, right?" She spat bitterly.

"No, I'm just sayin' clean up all you want, but stop givin' yourself palpitations thinkin' you've got 'vampire sex fiend' tattooed on your forehead." He stepped in behind her, detaching her fingers from the rose-colored bath puff and began scrubbing her back. She tensed and then relaxed.

"Okay." She murmured and they shared a moment of comfortable silence in the water before drying off.

He watched her from the corner of his eye. Twitchy. Watching him. "If you're worried, Luv, about using communal space, there's always your room."

"No!" Explosion followed by embarrassment. "No. No, that's not-something we can do." She swallowed. That bed had never held her and Angel, or her and Parker, and Riley had left her sleeping in that bed to go play with his little vampire whore. The bed is obviously meant for one occupant.

"Easy." He soothed. "Too soon?"

"Too soon." Ten years from now was going to be too soon for this to all be real, but she had promised make the effort.

"Someday?" He looked at her, trying to read that all too readable face. How'd she do that, pull out the vulnerability and then tuck it away? Must be all the leadin' a 'double life' tripe that slayers trying to live in modern America excelled at.

"Will you leave if I say I don't know? About that part of it?" She clutched the towel around her protectively and looked at him with liquifying eyes.

" 'Course not." He said easily, and scraped himself back into his jeans and tee. "Even if I gotta meet you in alleys an' crypts for the rest of my unlife, I'm stickin' around. But I'm buyin' an' alarm clock an' an umbrella for you to keep at my place, an' you'll keep your gob shut about it."

She smiled her silent thanks and they finished dressing. She headed down the stairs and he trailed after her, careful to pick up his duster before following her, careful to put his towel in the hamper, leave no trace. "We spendin' the day together?" He asked nonchalantly.

"In the house. Yeah." She walked more quickly, and he lengthened his stride.

"So, what d'you fancy us doin' then?" His voice was still light, just the merest hint of suggestion.

"I don't know. We don't usually hang out in a- a hanging out way." She shrugged.

"Good time to start. Dawn and I-" He paused, looking down at Buffy as she rummaged under the kitchen cabinets. "What're you doing?" He cocked his head.

"Nothing, n-nothing that I don't usually do. People have chores." She lied.

"What the bloody hell are you doin'?" Spike repeated more fiercely, gripping her shoulder to see what she was holding.

"Just- I have to." She pushed past him and picked up her cleaning supplies, bleach, scrub brush, scouring pads.

"Are you completely daft? What are you gonna do, disinfect the entire house? Anywhere I've touched? You gonna _drink _the soddin' Clorox?" He shouted, yanking her back to him.

"Better than dumping it on my head!" She shook him off again, fingers accusingly brushing his wet, bleached hair.

"You want me to leave, that it? Make me feel like what we do is so shameful I'll run? You can run, I won't." He blocked her path, but kept his hands to himself.

"No, you can't, 'cause you'd combust!" Buffy pointed angrily to the sun slitting through the backdoor blinds. Why was she doing this? She knew that they'd left no trace aside from water streaks on the tile, and those were in no way indicative of sex, just bathing. And they'd be dry in an hour, long, long before her family or friends arrived home.

"Sun has nothing to do with it! I'm not leaving, 'cause _you don't get rid of me_." He sliced off the last words with a snarl, low in his throat, painfully close to her. She stared back, didn't back down, didn't speak. "You think I can't leave? No, it's just that I won't. I could get to darkness before I burn. I've got my coat, I'm good for quite a few feet, and there's plenty of shade in your lawn, Luv. You want me gone, you're out of luck. I love you. You can't drive me off."

Standoff, only this time, no weapons, Buffy thought ruefully. "Stay." She whispered. "And stay out of my way." They nodded cooly to one another, eyes on fire, motions controlled and disdainful.

He heard her banging around over him. Scrubbing their sin out of impermeable surfaces, what a laugh. What a bitch. I won't even deny what we did was dirty, but I'll be doubly damned if I say I'm ashamed to do it. He lit a cigarette and paced the living room. How could Bit be so different from her? Must be that touch of cosmic about her. Bit was a handful an' a half, but at least you bloody well knew what to expect.

Of course- I don't really care what anyone thinks of me. 'Cept for Bit and the clean freak upstairs. _She's _got a whole clan here, worshippin' her like the hero she is and pretending she's the normal girl she wants to be, all at once. Tell her that they'll love her no matter what, but they dance around the uncomfortable stuff as long as they can. I know she believes what I told her, about how they love havin' her back and they'll accept her no matter how she comes- but she prolly wants to see it herself. That'd be Buffy. Gotta have proof.

A particularly violent thud from above derailed his musings. Girl's just afraid of losing their respect. So many stupid wankers in her life, changing the rules on her at a moment's notice. _Just wait. Not like you're getting any older, is it? _

Buffy felt tears merging with the sweat dripping from her brow as she scrubbed. Maybe it was the bleach fumes, making her eyes sting. "Or maybe because you're acting like a royal bitch to the sweet, hot guy downstairs?" She sighed to herself. Dead or not, Spike wasn't dirty, wasn't diseased, and didn't deserve this level of OCD clean up.

He's right. Damn him for that. He's right, though, what are you going to do, drink the bleach? Wash the love out of you, disinfect your heart? It wasn't ugly, it wasn't violent, what they'd done. If she stopped and let herself remember, remember with the part of her that wasn't panicking about being a good Slayer and a good sister, what they did was beautiful. Erotic, and passionate, and pleasurable. It didn't feel pushed or rushed, it was loving, and he put her first. She put him first, too. It was nice to do that, and find it returned, do it, and not feel like it was expected of her.

She dropped the bottle with a plastic clatter on the tile. I'm washing away something loving and beautiful. God, what's wrong with me? That I think loving a soulless, demonic human is beautiful, or that I run from it?

Alright, one thud too many. She wouldn't really drink bleach, but she might well pass out from using the amount she felt was required to rid the place of vampiric lovemaking. Spike stomped up the steps, sure to get an earful, but too dumb over her to care.

"Oof!" The inward swing of the door caught the both by surprise, him on his way in with a push, her on the way out with a pull.

"I'm sorry!" They both said as one, him sounding defensive, and she sounding genuinely moved.

"No more on the floor, okay? But- the shower's okay." She offered a compromise. "I don't think what we did is wrong... just not for public consumption, okay?"

"As you say, Princess." He took the cleaning supplies from her wet, reddened hands. "An' I got it. It's not about me is it, not even about us. About them?"

"They love me. But I'm not sure they love me like you." She whispered, eyes sinking down.

"Am I on the complimentin' end of that statement?" He smiled.

"Yeah. You'd love me however I am. Even if I stay broken and bitchy." Her eyes flickered up to his, hints of mirth reflecting in his gaze.

" 'Could do with less of the bitch part. But, yeah you're right. They will, too, Buffy, give 'em a chance. I'm just more used to it, been on the receiving end for a few years longer." They exchanged a rueful smile and slowly walked downstairs, side by side.

"You hungry?" She offered, at the same time he asked "Shall we see what's on the telly?"

"Yes." They both replied.

"This is so hopeless." She moaned, and flopped cross-legged onto the couch.

"It isn't! We're just not used to it, is all." He itched to ask what she and the other blokes had done, but he didn't really want to know. And he doubted she wanted to be reminded.

I could ask what he and Drusilla did, but I'd regret it. Torturing and maiming by night, sleeping by day. Well, she _was_ kind of tired. They could nap. _What are we? Senior citizens? I mean, yeah he's old, but he's not "old". This is so annoying..._

"I'm gonna rustle up some blood." He smiled reassuringly. "An' then we'll think of something to do."

"Okay." She replied dully. He'll make some blood, and then we can- "Spike? Blood? Did you say_ blood_?"

"They usually keep a bag for me in here. Babysitters do get snacks after all." He opened the fridge and dug around. "Here we go." He held up a bag triumphantly. "Last one. Must be time to shop."

"Yeah, it is." Buffy's figure appeared in the kitchen, leaning on the doorframe. "How long have they been doing that?"

"Since you went away." He whispered. "A couple weeks after. Figured if I was gonna protect Bit, an' do my part, they could at least keep a few pints handy for me. Not that they always bought it, just let me keep it here." He poured the contents of a bag into a mug and heated it in the microwave.

"I never noticed it. I've been back for weeks, and I never noticed it." She crossed her arms and shivered. "Man. I was out of it worse than I thought."

He stared at her thin arms, more defined neck. She wasn't skin and bones, but she had lost a bit of weight. "You just weren't concerned about eatin', Luv. Probably didn't spend much time looking in the fridge." He gave her a ghost of a smile. "To tell you the honest to God truth, neither was I. None of us were."

It felt right, kissing him then, in the quiet of the empty house. Knowing that she was back, and that he was grateful without being pushy. "I have papers to look at." She smiled up at him. "Sit with me on the couch?"

"Love to." He put one arm around her, and followed her back to the living room, reading over her shoulder on the way.

He kept peering over her as she read, the television on, but he clearly wasn't interested in it. "You know, it's bad manners to read over someone's shoulder." She glared over at him.

"Vampire." He replied with a slight lilt in his voice. "These the places you applying to?"

"I guess so. If the work study thing doesn't happen with college. Probably even if it does. That'll help pay my tuition, but that's probably it." She groaned softly. "Stupid finances."

"No joy at the bank, I remember that. Demons and loan officers. Your life sucks on the mythical and realistic planes."

"No kidding. Thanks for burying that mercenary demon thingy." She leaned against his side and he purred. "Did you- did you just make a kitty cat noise?"

"No! That was a lustful, contented sound. Not in the least like a cat." He scoffed haughtily. "Here, lemme see these" He took some of the papers from her hand. "Slayer, did you even look at the wages on this one?"

"It's minimum wage, but they have day shifts, and it's what I can do! I'm not good at balancing my life, and Dawn, and slaying, and school! Why in the world I thought I'd add a boyfriend into the mix-" She stopped talking at stared at him guiltily. "I didn't mean that! I didn't say it!"

"No, no, shhh. Not your boyfriend. Not a boy. More than a friend. I'm your man, your vampire, your lover. An' you know why you let me in?" He shifted them on the couch, his hard chest to her side, pulling her against him. She shook her head, biting her tongue as sensations coursed through her. His lips moved against the curve of her ear, vibrating the small silver hoops with his airless voice. "Because I'm gonna help you balance. I'm gonna take some of the balls you've got in the air, an' I'm gonna catch 'em." His hand suddenly squeezed her insistently, making her gasp. "This could be great, if you'd let me in."

She moaned softly and titled her head back into the hollow of his throat. His mouth found her neck and then her softly parted lips, hands under her shirt, needy but gentle. "I don't need someone to take care of me. It's my job to take care of everyone else." She finally gave him her reply in a half-strangled gasp.

"You're not my job. You're my girl." He sealed her protesting mouth with his own.

She was surprised when he broke the kiss first, but she understood. The couch was no place for a liaison, not if you'd just been freaking out about privacy. "I can help you." He repeated.

"And you do." She squeezed his hand. "But I can't take money."

Insufferable rules these white hats played by. And now he supposed he was one of them so he had to play as well. "Fine. No money changes hands, except into Dawn's account, like we said." If she won't let me help her with the cash, guess it needs to be in another way... "You promise to let me know if you ever really need somethin', though?"

"I promise." She kissed him once more, and then went back to her papers.

Her head eventually drooped onto his chest, and soon her eyelids followed. He snuggled her down on him, delighting that he could hold her for a few stolen moments, maybe even an hour. "Rest on me." He murmured, pale lips to her pink skin, and in her sleep, she obeyed. His lips curved into a smirk. Only bloody time she listens to me, when she's asleep.

He held her in one arm, hand across her soft hair, stroking it smooth, while the other perused her applications and bills. Girl needed that work study, and some financial aid to boot. There wasn't a way she'd ever let him pay for her college, and even on his best nights of gambling, he made nowhere near enough to pay the tuition. Gotta do somethin' though. Somethin' that won't hurt anybody, so beating up the head of admissions was out. He grinned broadly and maliciously as a sudden thought struck him. Who said he had to be violent? He just had to be "persuasive". "Don't you worry, Pet. Spike'll see to everything." He laid his head to hers and chuckled in the dimness.

Buffy wondered why people made electric blankets that kept you warm. This, waking up on something comfortingly cool, but regulated to your own unique temperature, now _that _was luxury. "Hi. I kinda dozed off." She said sheepishly.

"Might have stolen a few catnaps myself. Dead peaceful here without Bit an' all the Scoobies."

"Dawn! Tara! They'll be home soon!" Buffy bolted upright.

"Too right they will, Luv." He stretched with a panther-like growl. "I'll jus' say I stopped in to see Bit, an' then go, alright?"

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, that might be the best, but then... later?"

"Oh yes, Luv. Later." He swung his legs slowly off the couch, leaning in to kiss her before he moved to take a seat in the armchair. "Later we can- Sod! Alarm clock. Gotta go pick one up." He took his kiss, and then sat apart from her, the way friends would expect them to sit. Far away, no contact.

"Thanks, Spike." She pushed her sleep mussed hair back in order and rose to her feet.

"Welcome." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was smiling at him, grateful that he hadn't asked her _why_ she was thankful. _We don't need to say much, her an' I. Not all the time, anyway._

"We're he-re!" Dawn, Tara, and Willow arrived simultaneously, around 3:30. "Buffy?"

"In the kitchen!" She called.

"Spike!" Dawn trotted into the living room, leaving Tara and Willow exchanging glances in the hallway. "I didn't think you'd be here."

"Stopped in to see you and Big Sis." He grinned at her enthusiasm. He stood, inclining his head once to Red and her lover. "Ladies."

"Hi, Spike." They both said, Willow more suspiciously than Tara. "Uhh, aren't you here kind of early? As in, the sun's still up?"

"I'm just leavin'." Spike preferred not to engage. Never knew how Buffy was gonna play it.

"What? No! You just get here, and I have a huge English paper to do, and I never can remember how to do citations."

"Willow's your girl for citations." Spike shrugged, glowing inside that at least someone wanted him around.

"I'm going to go start dinner, it has to marinade for an hour at least." Tara hurriedly deposited her school bag and drifted into the kitchen, passing Buffy as she came out.

"Willow, come and help me with this." Buffy managed to look confused and frustrated over one of the many applications. Spike shot her a curious look. They'd gone over every one of those soddin' pieces of paper between arguing, cuddling, and snoozing. Could it be- is she tryin' to keep me here a little longer?

"Alright, Niblet, show me your work." Spike sighed. Once left alone, he and Dawn shared a wink.

"Were you here long?" Dawn raised one eyebrow.

"No." He lied. She pursed her lips. "_No_." He repeated more severely, "No, Niblet, you don't even-" his voice getting into the hissing range.

"Okay, okay. Chill with the big bad act." She rolled her eyes.

"It's not an act!" He said in an injured voice.

"Fine. You're big and bad, and if I ever run off without telling you where I'm going you'll 'rip my bloody head off and drink from my brainstem'? Am I close?"

"Something like that." He muttered, smile twitching the corner of his mouth.

Look at us. Tara in the kitchen. Chicken for dinner. Willow's explaining something, I should be listening, but I can't listen, because I can't stop _looking_. Dawn and Spike, at the coffee table, arguing, both of them in the voices that annoyed her most, his with that callous, strident tone, and Dawn in her whine. And yet both of them actually seemed to be working and doing something productive.

"Earth to Buffy?" Willow tapped her arm. "Do you want to come with me tomorrow to drop the rest of these off? Maybe audit a class?"

"Yes. Yes, that'd be great!" Buffy said brightly, coming back to reality. "Do they always do homework together?" She felt guilty. Seriously, she'd been back for awhile, and she should know the answer to that. Maybe that was why Dawn's grades were in the toilet half the time, totally absentee parenting.

"No. We take turns. She doesn't 'need' that much help. She just likes hanging out with us."

"So Spike is just one in the rotation of Dawn-sitters?" Buffy clarified, eyes still drifting towards the figures hunched over notebook papers and a dictionary.

"No. He's different. She loves all of us, but he- I don't know, Buffy, they connect somehow. He hung out with her before, remember?"

"Yeah, and I didn't like it then, either." She grimaced.

"You still don't like it?" Willow looked at her with a frown.

"No, I do. Now. He kept her safe, he always did that. It's just weird. He gets all 'normal' around her. It's not just a protection thing anymore."

"She didn't know him before. I mean, she has memories of _yours_, but once she realized that she didn't really know him, that he was new to her, and she was new to him, I guess they kind of took each other at face value. She knew he wasn't going to hurt her, and he knew she was just a kid and she needed all the protection she could get. And they both like to annoy you." The best friends giggled at the truth of this.

"She loves him, you know that? And he loves her. In a creepy, undead babysitter way." She squinched her eyes shut. "Tell me how wrong that is."

Willow was prevented from answering by a loud exchange from the living room. "Niblet! You cannot use that word in your essay, goddamnit!"

"Oh, shut up and smoke your cancer sticks." Dawn smacked his hand off her pencil and reached into the duster draped across the armchair, retrieving his smokes for him.

"Not gonna die from it, am I?" He lit up and puffed to soothe himself. "You are gonna get in trouble if you use that word, an' I don't think it fits the characters anyway." Dawn put her pencil down and he resumed speaking in a softer voice.

"Wrong? Totally. Working out really well? Also a big ten on the totally scale." Willow shrugged.

"Will! Come set the table for us, honey?" Tara called.

"Isn't it early?"

"It won't be ready for awhile but I want all the clean dishes out of the dishwasher."

"Coming, Sweetie." Willow smiled and squeezed Buffy's shoulder.

"I'll help." Buffy rose as well. She and Willow set the table, Willow chattering on about the classes that she should take and how to build her own degree, Buffy nodding, lost in thought.

He might be wrong but he fits. He said we're the puzzle, didn't he? And maybe we are. All the pieces I'm missing, maybe he really could help me find them. Look at him. I can imagine him here, with us, helping me balance...

No, no,_ no_! Do not start seeing a rosy future with him, 'cause there're no roses, no future. No movie nights, no holiday dinners, they'll never accept him.

"Five for dinner or do we wanna call Giles and invite him over?" Willow broke into Buffy's thoughts.

"Huh? Call Giles? Sure." Buffy blurted. Then her friend's words slowly seeped in. "Five for dinner?"

"Spike." Willow said, as if it were nothing new, already picking up the phone. "He'll still be at the store. "Baby? What time is dinner?"

"Tell him six!" Tara called back.

"Five for dinner..." Buffy murmured to herself. Spike looked up and caught her eye. He smiled at her, a relaxed smile, and then turned back to Dawn and the two novels she was supposed to be comparing and contrasting.

He could fit. He fit with Dawn, didn't he? He didn't exactly mesh with her friends, but he worked closely with them all the time. _He fits with me, when I let him in._

"Spike?" Buffy came in and stood behind the pair. Spike reached out his hand for hers, and then bashfully put it back, recalling where they were. Dawn sighed, and started to gather her books and go, leave them alone. Buffy motioned her to sit back down. Her sister and her lover looked up at her with growing surprise.

"What's up, Slayer?" Spike's eyes widened as he watched her take a furtive glance around, and then place her hand on his shoulder, crouching slightly. "Buffy?"

Her voice was calm and her smile was steady. "Spike. Stay for dinner."


	5. Chapter 5

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. Includes some canonical events, but with a twist. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold. _

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, iSage, Idiosyncratic Delusions, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, are other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them._

_Reviews please!_

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part V

"We'll clear, Ladies. Thank you for an excellent meal." Giles said with a broad smile. Spike raised his mug of blood in a silent toast. "Spike, give me a hand will you?"

Spike nodded curtly, clearing plates with wary eyes. Watcher'd been givin' him the eye all night. And now here comes the scene where he gets me alone and threatens me with a bit of G.B.H. Well, that wasn't too ruddy honorable, was it, knowing he couldn't fight him off without spiraling headaches.

"Stop the dirty looks. What's your problem?" Giles wasn't prepared for the direct confrontation. "Let's have done with it." Spike hissed in an undertone.

"I checked her for spells, Spike. She's not under any magical influence but you did something to her. There's something between you two, ever since you spent a the better part of a week alone with her." The elder man's lips trembled with suppressed rage. "What did you do to her?"

"We talked, that's all!" Spike lied gracefully and convincingly. Oh, yes, they talked. While he was buried inside her, while they were naked and tangled in sheets and each other. Also while they were arguin' and sulkin'. Ha. Him an' his girl, they did it all. "Sometimes it helps to have someone objective that you can talk to, let's you open up a bit." Spike bit his lip to stifle the groan that longed to burst out. Open up a bit, her thighs around his head, open for him...

"I don't think anything you've ever done could be considered objective. You serve yourself, your own interests." Giles turned on the water and stepped closer. "When I talked to Buffy, she said that you didn't leave her, that you wouldn't leave her. All the important men in her life have left, and you didn't. She's made you important!"

"Well, sure I'm important. We work together, Slayer and I. And me and the Bit, you know that means a lot to Buffy." Giles' expression softened momentarily, but hardened as Spike continued to speak. "I'm not the leavin' kind. I'll stay as long as she wants me."

"The very fact that you think she 'wants' you is-"

"I'm not gonna leave her if I'm important to her!" Spike sat a plate in the sink with too much force and a hairline crack formed down the center. "Sod." He closed his eyes and sighed, opening them in time to see Giles sporting an incredibly guilty look. Blue eyes widened and then narrowed in realization. "_You_ were."

"I were- I was- what?" Giles coughed anxiously.

"You bloody wanker. You bloody_ pillock_!" Spike pushed his conversation partner out the back door, voice deepening to a snarling hiss, chip sending warning zaps as he tightened his hold. "You can't leave her, you're like her father! The closest thing she's got, anyhow. You can't leave!"

Giles didn't bother to lie, the cold blue eyes knew his secrets. "I was wrong to decide that. I see that now. Nonetheless, it's apparent to me that she wants you to stay as well." Giles took off his glasses and moved in closer to the pale man in black. "I know how you've nursed that desire along, Spike. Made her think you're worth having around. I've seen how you've furthered your own obsession, how you've 'changed', always for your own benefit."

"Oi!" Spike was visibly offended, defensive, but more hurt than angry, which Giles wasn't expecting. "Just you-"

Giles was amazed to hear himself comforting the man he'd just been berating. "No, except for Dawn, I know that. I know that, for some unknown reason, you can genuinely feel for her."

"I can genuinely feel for her sister, too, Rupert. God knows I'm not gettin' anything but scrapes and severe annoyance by working with you lot. There has to be something else motivating me."

"You get the chance to stay alive." Giles spat.

"Didn't know I was going to get that chance while I was facin' down Hellbitch and her leprous hobbits. Got thrown off a building, saved your hide every soddin' day this summer. An' you've saved mine." The two men stared each other down, both feeling that they were in the right. "Could've left anytime, Rupes. This is somethin' I can do, can feel, don't know why." Spike's voice returned to a threatening tone. "And you can't change that."

"But _you _could." He pointed out. "You could slip back as easily you 'changed' for good. That chip not withstanding, you're a soulless killer. Should it ever get removed-" Giles let the sentence hang in the cool evening air.

Well, can't very well deny that I've said the first thing I'd do without the chip would be to turn all of them into walking cocktails, Spike sighed within himself. He groped for a way to make him understand without revealing Buffy's major role in his desire to change. "How fast did Angel change, Watcher? Hmm? With a soul? An' what good is havin' a soddin' soul if you can lose it? You know I don't have one to begin with, can't be robbed of it."

Giles raked his hand through his hair and shoved his glasses back on his face, mouth twitching angrily with unspoken arguments, but Spike wasn't quite done. "When Angelus was torturing you, who was workin' with your girl to save you? Save the whole ruddy world? I've made my slips, an' so has he. Point is- I changed on my own. You can't steal it outta me. This change?" Spike's eyes gleamed, not with malice, with some inner light, pride, and not a devious, cocky pride. "This change is _mine_."

"And when the demon comes to call?" Giles whispered, face softening, eyes still grave.

"Demons can change, too. Or did you forget about your newest Scooby, the lovely Mrs. Harris-to-be?"

Giles felt a surge of the old Ripper-like rebellion in his soul. So the bloody Council had taught him all creatures of the night were evil and dangerous, soulless and loveless, incapable of feeling. And yet, even in Spike's most evil moments, he had shown purpose, love for someone other than himself, in Drusilla, and then Dawn, and Buffy. All of those emotions had once been relegated to the category of self-serving interests, but Giles knew, even if he hated to admit it, that Spike could love. Sod the Council, sod doing the research. Some things do not make sense, some things have no explanation. Didn't mean Spike would be let off the hook. "Hurt her, hurt any of them, ever, and I'll bloody kill you." Giles voice was a sheet of ice, hard and smooth, lips inches from Spike's ear.

"I hurt her, ever, an' you won't have to do a thing, mate." Spike oiled, taking a step back.

"Don't toy with me-" Giles latched onto his arm, fingers unnaturally strong with his surrogate daughters' safety on the line.

Spike shook his hand off with a bitter smile. "No. you won't have to do a thing, Watcher. Shot of Jack and a holy water chaser. If I gotta go out, gonna go out properly."

The fact that he even had a thought of his own demise should have worried him. He should hear alarm bells pealing, Spike had thought about slipping, hurting, and he had designed his own consequence. Yet, that was oddly comforting. He had a self-imposed penalty. Then he knew it was wrong. "Well, I have to admit, it has style." Giles shuffled his feet.

"Thought it did." Spike relaxed slightly. "But no worries. Seriously now, Watcher, I swear it on Dawn's eyes, I'll never hurt the Slayer, nor Bit. Not even you lot, 'cause it'd make her sad." Spike sighed and shook his head. I'm on a short leash, love's bitch, an' now the poofy librarian knows it.

"You're a very strange vampire." Giles exhaled.

"You're a very strange Watcher. Most Watchers stake first, listen second. Not that piles of dust are great conversationalists..."

"Yes, well, between you and me, the Council's run by an odious man and I don't want to be like him."

"That Travers bloke? And his tweed circus, God, Rupes, how'd you ever stand it?"

"Being 6,000 miles away helps." The two men exchanged a grin, and Spike gave a deep chuckle, which Giles joined in.

"I can't stand it! I can't!" Buffy sprang from her seat without a backward glance, leaving Tara, Willow, and Dawn perched on the couch in front of the television. She'd heard Giles and Spike slip out the backdoor five minutes ago, and hadn't heard anything since. Someone was probably dead... She pelted out the door, heart in a jumble. _I love Spike, please don't let him be dead. I love Giles, please don't let him have killed Spike, or vice versa, and I feel so bad, I don't even know which one I'm more afraid of losing... _

"Then what's her name, the daft cow with the glasses and the buck teeth, goes all gooey an' says she did her thesis on me!" Spike was saying in a mildly sickened voice.

"Oh, Lydia! Dreadful woman, simpers the whole time..." Giles shook his head as if trying to rid himself of a bitter taste. They both laughed.

"You two are talking! You're laughing!" Buffy burst through the door and stopped short of hugging them in her relief. "Good. I- I'm gonna go back in now."

"We'll come with you." Spike spoke quickly. "I'm jus' gonna say goodnight to Bit, and then I need to run to the store, pick up a few things. See you around, Watcher. Slayer." He nodded to each of them.

"Umm. Patrol, later? Maybe?" Buffy hoped she sounded casual, not eager.

"Yeah, catch up to you somewhere." Spike shrugged. His fingers itched to reach out and caress her cheek, touch her hair, pull her close. But no, wouldn't do, and it would piss her off. He'd have to settle for his affection elsewhere. "Night, Red. Tara, delicious meal, as always. Blood just takes better with home cookin' doesn't it?" He looked around the room for a cry of agreement, which was met with silence. "Right then. Night, Bit."

"Good night." Dawn squeezed his hand as he tapped her shoulder. "Hey, when are you going to take me for a ride?"

"Oh, how about tomorrow night, Niblet?" He offered.

"Goody!" Dawn beamed at him and Buffy hid her smile behind a cough. Spike waved once and breezed out of the house. For a moment there was awkward silence. "Oh! Buffy- Spike left his lighter." Dawn broke the quiet, holding out her hand, a silver lighter in her palm.

"I'll run it out to him." Buffy rolled her eyes.

Spike felt an ache tug at him. Didn't say goodbye to her like I should, no kiss, no tender words. Was I bein' good for her sake, or am I makin' her think I don't care? God, why do I like the crazy ones? I need a smoke... He paused by the oak on the side of the house, slid one slim cylinder from his packet, and fumbled for his lighter. Where was it? He knew he'd put it back in the pocket with his cigs, where he always kept it.

"Spike! Your lighter!" Buffy called, running outside after him. "Here." She caught up to him easily, and held out the silver box.

"Ta, Luv. Where was it? I love this lighter, never careless with it."

"Guess you were distracted." She said with a slightly smug trace in her voice. "Dawn found it by her schoolbooks, I guess."

"But I-" Spike paused and cast a look back at the house. Niblet. Made sure I'd get my goodnight kiss. Nimble fingered little snack. "Guess Bit put her books over it or some such. But I'm glad." He closed his hand around hers, and tugged her into the shadows.

"Spike- everyone's waiting for me inside." She breathed, hating herself for brushing him off, denying herself the pleasure of his loving embrace.

"Shhh. I know that, Slayer." He moved his mouth to hers before she could protest, kissing her until her mouth involuntarily opened, and he wormed his smooth, seeking tongue inside. He pushed his hands down her back and into her rear, pulling her forward, letting her feel the hardened bulge in his tight jeans.

Buffy gasped when he pushed her gently back to arms' length, just as her hands had been about to start roving over him. Her crotch was soaked and her pupils wide in the darkness, looking up at him with a slack jaw._ I probably look like a lovesick schoolgirl. _But then again, Spike looked just as rattled, awed, ragged breaths coming out of his airless chest. "More later?" He panted.

"Uh-huh." She agreed.

"Meet me in Restfield?"

"In an hour?"

"In an hour." He was about to add more, but his little land mine was once again proving her unpredictability, kissing him fervently once again, before darting away, her supernatural speed making her fairly glide over the turf. _Don't need to say good bye to her. Gonna see her soon..._

Spike prowled along, cigarette restored to the corner of his mouth, dispatching any nasties he found with no more than a perfunctory punch and a jerk of the neck. No excessive violence, no tricky moves. Bloody boring. He hoped to God that his girl was going to deliver tonight. Needed something to cool the burn, and he usually worked it off with his fighting. But he had to hustle tonight.

He went into the hardware store on one of the side streets. Ought to have an old fashioned, non-electricity using alarm clock, and a cheap umbrella. He considered taking what he liked, but after an inward struggle- _You _are_ owned, aren't you? Gonna take this being good seriously, and then you know what'll happen, don't you? She'll get bored. She needs the monster in her man. Ah- but she needs a _good_ monster._ Wouldn't do to have her using stolen things- not _all_ stolen, anyway. He thought back to the stolen bath products waiting next to his soap, and paid for the alarm clock and umbrella with a scowl.

Some more time to kill, but not much. Would she want to patrol, or get right to it? His throbbing member strongly advocated for the second option. He lit a second cigarette as soon as he received his change, nicked a pretty keychain to give to Bit (just to make himself feel better) and walked along, looking for more nasties in need of a good killing. But the town was quiet.

Except for that odd rustling noise that only someone with supernatural senses would pick up on. And that smell! Good God what a stench! Like deep fat fried filth. Spike turned a soured expression to the direction of the odor. Double Meat Palace. Lovely.

Buffy could not work here. He would not allow any girl of his- he ended that fantasy right there. Telling her not to do something was like her personal invitation to do exactly that. But still, best check the place out, see what the sound, and that putrid smell, were coming from exactly.

Spike followed his nose to the back of the fast food restaurant, looking at the dozen patrons inside. How were humans so buggerin' dense? Didn't hear or smell a thing that wasn't shoved directly in front of their faces. Surely even human noses realized that rotting fast food garbage didn't stink like- what was that? Dead human. Recently dead, but mixed with something much more foul.

"Oi!" Spike spotted two crouched figures in the pile of garbage. Correction, one crouched figure, and one bloody, lifeless and mangled figure. "Look, mate, this is a fast food joint, but you're supposed to order the burgers, not the employees." Spike drew his crossbow, circling nearer.

The figure turned slowly, and Spike heard the tell-tale rustle. "Ohh, the little old lady disguise. Works every time." He backed up with a less than confident laugh. That thing was some sort of worm demon, livin' in a little old lady body. Masses of blood stained teeth gaped back at him. Poisonous venom dripped from its mouth, if the steaming streams hitting the pavement were any indication. "Not that I don't understand your predilection for the townies, but this is my turf."

The beastie wasn't one for small talk, its worm-like body uncoiling, leaving the human shell more fully, pulsing towards him. The creature sprayed a mist at him, and Spike dove. "Right rude creature." Spike snarled and shot the crossbow squarely at the snake-like neck. It writhed and screeched, more mist flying out. "Don't know what you are, but your number's up." Spike fired another shot, missing the beast's swinging head but catching part of the substance it released.

Oh, sod it. Paralyzin' breath. Why couldn't these things ever make you sexually irresistible or able to fly? Why was it always to paralyze you, freeze you, or kill you? Still he had vamp healing, and it hadn't gotten his right side...

"Just relax, I'm not going to eat you. I like hot meals." The being hissed. "Just going to bite your head off..."

"Try it." Spike snarled, although in a more muffled voice than usual, left side of his mouth immobilizing. The whipping body smacked him to the ground, and lunged over him. Only got one shot- Spike waited, moving as fast as he could, which was still far slower than usual, and raised his weapon at the same moment he was confronted with a gaping mouth.

The wooden stake went straight through the back of the head, and a cascade of foul smelling greenish yellow bile spattered him. Spike kicked viciously with his right leg, and rolled out of range. "Hurry up and die, some of us have ladies waitin'." He grumbled, dragging himself to his feet.

He leaned against the grungy brick wall, panting as his adversary did its death rolls. Wonderful. Half numbed and stinkin' to high heaven. Perfect way to greet Buffy. Also, he walked and stumbled, one leg dragging uselessly behind him, most likely late. At least the umbrella and alarm clock were in a plastic bag and unscathed. "Bugger." He kicked the dead creature savagely and gave it the two-fingered salute.

Buffy paced the cemetery. "He's fine, right?" She punched the recently risen vamp and slammed into his chest with a stake. "About an hour, we said." She told the newly made pile of dust. "He's not in his crypt. And I'm talking to ashes." She sat down heavily on a tombstone. "I can't even say I've been stood up, 'cause I haven't officially been on a date. Maybe he couldn't take it anymore. Maybe he left." Her eyes clouded, and her voice became softer with each word. "And I'm still sitting in the dark, talking to dead people. Hoping it's not real."

"Luv- you gotta- stop that." Spike's voice hit her ear, muffled and curiously far away sounding.

"Spike? Spike!" Buffy jumped up and ran to him as he sagged on the side of his mausoleum. "Oh, geez! Spike, you reek!" She wrinkled her nose and coughed.

"No kiddin'." He lurched drunkenly forward. "Gimme a couple minutes to get cleaned up." He tugged the door open with effort, and Buffy crept closer to him. "Stay back, Pet, this stuff could ruin your pretty little nose."

"Why are you walking like that?" Buffy ignored him and helped push the door fully open.

"Thing shoots out poison gas. Paralyzes whatever it touches. Thank God I don't breathe, or I'd be dead- properly dead, paralyzed lungs an' all."

"Let's get you into the shower and scrub you down." Buffy grunted as she shoved the door shut and shouldered her lover along to the trap door entrance.

"This might make gettin' gassed worth it." Spike smirked painfully.

"Shut up." She winced as she tried to help him down the ladder, and his slippery hands slid through hers.

"Ow." Spike said emphatically, but calmly, as he landed at the bottom with a thud.

"Sorry!" Buffy leapt down after him, skimming down like lightening. "Spike, I'm so sorry."

"I'm okay, Luv. Clothes'll need a wash, but I'm fine." He let her help him up, and propped himself against the wall. "Gimme a hand with the boots, I can do the rest myself."

"I can help you." Buffy set her chin, and slowly, carefully began easing his shoes off, then his shirt, finally his pants, ignoring his look of awe. "Stop staring at me, okay?"

"Just didn't think you'd ever- help me like this. Is that all it is? Takin' care of the injured party?"

"No." She admitted quietly. "Here, Baby." She pushed the sodden clothing to the side, and assisted him into the shower, propping him against the shower wall. He looked at her with half-lidded eyes, sleepy smile on his face. Although, Buffy realized, it's not sleep, it's partial paralysis.

"I can do the rest, Honey." Spike scooted his shoulder up the wall, straightening himself to his full height. Buffy ignored him. He sighed impatiently. "Look, your clothes are going to-"

"I'll take them off." Buffy blushed in the light of the one guttering torch, and undressed hastily. "What happened?"

Spike couldn't think of a reply, staring stupidly at her body as inch after inch was revealed. "Uh- snakey demon thing. Little old lady body. Killed a townie."

"Do I need to go after it?" Buffy struggled to reach the hinged pipe above the dug out shower area, stretching her torso against his. Her nipples, hardening in the chill air of the underground lair, pressed his chest.

"I killed it." Spike watched her arching to reach the pipes. "Let me get it, Luv." Although, her stretched body to his, soft breasts with hard tips tempting him, took the hurry right from him.

"I- got it!" She jumped and icy water sprayed all over them. "Sorry!" She shivered.

"Don't apologize, just get out of here." Spike worked his shoulders off the wall and into the stream more fully.

"N-no." Her teeth chattered and she fumbled for the soap. No sponges, no washcloths, of course. Use her hands, she guessed.

"You don't have to do- ooh, hell, Slayer." Her soapy hands lathered him all over, including sensitive areas. Of course, when ever she touched him, his skin throbbed all over, every nerve aroused.

"Shh. Are you okay? You don't feel all stiff anymore?"

"No, plenty stiff." He grunted, eyes closing.

"Not- not Spike stiff." She smiled with reddening cheeks. "Demon-y spit stiff."

"Left side's a little wonky, but I'm gettin' there. Now you need to get out of here, your lips are turnin' blue."

"Not until you're cleaner. And don't smell like fried garbage." She wrinkled her nose and scrubbed harder. "This soap is not working!"

"Well, I'm sure Ivory Fresh or whatever doesn't do market research on demonic paralyzin' slime."

Buffy shivered and blinked freezing water out of her eyes. "Can I use this?" She held up the unopened bottle Spike had swiped from the Magic Box.

"It's s'posed to be for you." He admitted. "You can use on me if you want."

"It smells a hell of a lot better than you do, so yeah, I'm for it." She squirted a pool of it into her palm and then slapped it on his chilled chest. "Mm. Big improvement."

"You like it?"

"Nice." She smiled shyly at him. Why am I shy, we've done everything two naked people should or shouldn't do together. _Maybe because he thinks of the little things. Juice, umbrellas, towels, alarm clocks, even pretty flowery toiletries to keep in an undead guy's third world shower. _Why is my most abnormal relationship also the most normal one? The one where he helps Dawn with her homework and goes over my college grant applications with me, talks to me about finances, and just knows how to_ listen _?

Spike watched her washing him down, silent. Don't break the spell. Just watch the show. Naked, wet lover, attending to him. Like she loves me. She loves me, she's lookin' after me. 'Cause she wants to. She gets nothin' from this. Just because she loves me.

It took ten minutes of furious scouring for him to feel and smell remotely clean, and even then, the stinking clothes added a pungent aroma to the room.

"Let's get upstairs and let this place air out a bit." Spike, moving better now, kissed her shoulder and scooted her along. "Get your towel, Luv, I'll take care of the togs."

"I got it. What else helps you heal, blood? Do you have any?" Buffy tied the towel around her and picked up his clothes, holding them far away from her body as possible.

"In the fridge. An' your juice is up there, too." He dug around in the chest and found his one and only pair of black shorts (from his Harmony days) and struggled into them. Buffy was already climbing up the ladder. "Are you makin' me somethin' to drink, then?"

"If you promise not to gloat, yeah." She replied in an amused voice. He heard the crypt door swing open and thud shut in the space of a second. She must have put his rotting clothes outside. The air quality improved immediately.

"Cross my unbeatin' heart." He grinned back, pulling himself up the rungs with one hand and his sense of balance. He grunted as he made the final hoist and rested on the ledge of the hole. "You do a good job lookin' after the wounded, Pet." He smiled appreciatively as he watched his sylph-like lover moving around his home, clad only in a towel, lean legs flashing him every stride.

"This isn't about you being wounded." Buffy muttered, not looking at him, digging around by the mini fridge, searching for clean cups and finding only a blood-crusted mug, a wineglass, and two shot glasses. "I'm going to have to drink this straight out of the bottle." She sighed, and pulled out the two bottles of juice. " Oh, well. Swig of one, swig of the other- hey!" She turned around and collided with the slim, silent bulk of Spike, standing unevenly behind her. "Bell. Neck. Still on your to-do list?" She pressed a hand to her chest, covering her rapidly accelerating heart. He was so close... And very, very smooth, gleaming like wet marble in the dark, lit only by the glow of the microwave and the small patches of moonlight from the tiny, graying crypt windows.

"It's not just about the wounded, hm?"

"No. I- I love you, you know that. Of course I'd-" She swallowed, "help you?"

"Questioning that, are we, Pet?"

"No." She put down the juices and caressed his shoulder with one hand, the other clinging to the knot in her scanty towel. "Just sounds strange to hear myself say it."

"You're whisperin' to the dead man, Luv. Say what you please, it goes no further."

"I don't have to help someone just because it's my job. I can do it 'cause I want to. I wanted to. You're-you're my guy, and I want you to be in one piece." She pouted up at him, leaning closer, closer, capturing his mouth with her own.

"Mm! Mmf?" Spike collapsed flat on his back for the second time that night. "Not that I didn't enjoy the kiss, Luv, leg just didn't count on you pressin' into me. Not that I'm complainin', mind you." He gave her an even more lopsided than usual grin, left side flatlined while the right corner quirked up happily.

"I'll help you up." She laughed, and he held up a protesting hand.

"I think I'd rather lie down." He smiled suggestively.

"On this floor?" She shook her head. "It's all gritty and concrete-y."

"We could go back to your place, Luv, anytime you say so." He wheedled.

"The floor's fine." She quickly moved to crouch beside him, and again he held up his hand.

"No. You're right." He flexed his fingers and allowed her to help him to his feet. A _smart_ man would've learned not to press the issue of spendin' time at her house while others were in residence, but no, not him. _Never learn, will you? Wait her out, she'll let you in eventually. All of them want it, that look of peace, know you can give it to them- but this time you're gonna help fix the Slayer, not destroy her. Still gonna get that peace for her, though._

"It- it doesn't have to be about sex. When we're together." She said hesitantly, brushing flecks of dirt from his milky back. The microwave beeped and she quickly got the mug out. "Unless you changed your mind since the other night?"

"Of course not. You're not- you alright?" He looked at her with a sideways glance, voice trailing off in puzzlement. The girl seemed to either resist him like mad, or end up wrapped around him, moanin' and grindin' to him, professing her love. They had bursts of middle ground, but it revolved around crises like botched resurrections and savin' sisters. At the very least, fightin' something nasty.

"I'm fine. But you're not. You don't have to give me a good time to make me wanna stay with you." She pressed the cup into his hand, and bolstered her left side.

He laughed and earned himself a glare. "No, Pet, sorry." He stemmed the chuckle and sipped his blood fervently, letting its healing power start to work. "I don't think you're here for the physical. Well, not_ only_ the physical. You'd have to care about me, even just a little, to do what we do."

"I love you, it's not just caring." She reminded him, blushing, eating her own words of the previous week.

"I know that now, Sweetheart." Spike sipped again, more deeply, and then drained it. No need to savor it tonight, sounded like his girl had other plans that would occupy his time. "So, what's on your mind then, Slayer? What'd you like to do?"

"Umm. I don't actually know." She confessed. "I- I don't think I've had a relationship, not in a long, long time anyway, that wasn't about hunting demons. Not that I'm going soft on demons!" She closed her eyes. Spike had the annoying gift of tangling her tongue- ooh, tangling tongues... Argh! Non-sexual thought, come on brain, just because he's so hot, and so good with that mouth, doesn't mean you can turn to mush.

"Well, soft on one demon in particular." He purred.

"I just want to be normal sometimes." Her forest eyes opened and bored into his. "You know what that's like."

"I do, Pet." He assured softly. He flexed his leg and put some of the weight on it. Like a bad case of numbness, but at least serviceable. "So." He smiled at her, this time both corners of his mouth moving in the same direction. "Normalcy, huh?"

"Normal for us." She shrugged, looking away. "I know it's silly, but-"

"Shush. I've watched enough of the bloody stupid television shows you Yanks like. I know how this goes." He limped to the television set and turned it on. "First things first. We put on the telly. Second, we get our munchies. I've had my blood, you can use the wineglass for the juice, an' I think I picked up some pretzels."

"Sounds- boring." She smiled.

"Yeah. Normal is borin'." Spike shrugged. "But it's okay once in awhile, init?" He lipped her ear, leaning close to her. "Besides, I could never be bored with you, Sl- Buffy." He caught her title before it slipped out.

"Stop- you need to heal a little more." She pushed away from him. "What's next on the normal list?"

"We sit on the chair. We watch the telly, we eat the soddin' pretzels, an' then we go downstairs..." He pressed back to her, leading her back to the juice. "Pour, Luv."

She poured, slightly unsteady hands betraying how keenly she felt his nearness. Particularly the hardness in his pelvic region that was gently hitting the curve of her lower back. She kept her voice calm. "Two parts orange," she poured the first bottle, "and one part grapefruit." She finished the second. Spike reached around her, screwing the cap back on the first bottle as she did the same thing to the grapefruit juice.

"What's wrong, Luv?" Spike murmured against her spine. Staying close behind her as she stirred her blend with one finger, and then put the juice bottles away and retrieved the pretzels.

What was wrong was that she was ready to rip off her towel and sprawl on top of one of the stone coffins, offering herself up to a vampire, because he made her senses tingle and her insides drip with molten arousal. "Normal girls would never be this horny." She spat bitterly and gulped her drink.

"That's a laugh! Lotsa couples want each other all the time. 'Specially when they've just realized how they feel." His knuckles skimmed the silk of her bare arms, raising the skin into a million pinpricks. "What'll be unusual is if you still fancy me this much in a year from now."

A year from now. Buffy let him wrap his arms around her waist and hold her close, swaying unsteadily with him and his limp as he propelled her to the single easy chair in front of the television set. A year from now. That sounded wonderful. And impossible. "We'll see, I guess." She muttered.

"Oh, I'll still be here, Luv. An' I'm going to want you like mad, prolly until I'm dust in the wind." He grinned against her hair. "Have a seat, Pet." He gestured to the chair.

"What about you?" She refused to sit.

"I'll perch on the arm or somethin'." He shrugged.

"We can squeeze in together." She argued. "I'm more flexible than you, you sit first, I'll work myself around you."

"Oh, yes..." He breathed raggedly at the images that sprang to his mind. Then he fixed her with a hungry stare. "Oi. No double entendre in front of me. You're not the only one with ruttin' instincts on full." He sat, and she surveyed him critically, eyes lingering over him and the extremely apparent tent in his trousers.

Girlfriends sat in their boyfriends laps. Sometimes. She'd even done it before, with Spike. Once, under a spell, when she had fallen in love with Spike for a few hours at the hands of Willow's botched incantation. Of course, then she'd been a giggly bride-brain. Not pantiless under a towel, waiting to split herself open on his talented cock...

"Not afraid to sit so close, are you, Sweetheart?" He pushed his hips forward slightly. She didn't answer, just slid slowly to him, rear end on one leg, her legs pressed together in a ladylike fashion as she eased in beside him.

He rested one hand on her clamped knees, and used the other arm to pull her in close. "Shh. You've gone all tense."

"No, I haven't." She lied defensively. Her body was acting all girly and stupid, completely disregarding her "this doesn't have to be about sex" pep talk from earlier on and starting to seep out hot "I want Spike" juices.

"Oh, Pet." He inhaled and pulled her closer still, hand tangling in her locks as he fought her head to his.

"The television-"

"Is often ignored by couples." He found her mouth. He slapped the remote and changed the channel. "A re-run of some insipid sit-com. Pretend to watch."

"Pretend to watch, while we pretend to be normal?" She caught on.

"That's the ticket, Luv." One smooth finger undid the knot in the towel, exposing her slender torso and pert breasts to his adoring gaze.

"Spike! Anyone can walk in!" Buffy held up her towel with a gasp.

"An' why would anyone burst into Mr. Regular Joe's apartment?" He pulled the towel up to cover only her back, letting it fall open in the front.

"Because you're not really Mr. Regular- ohhhh God." Mouth engulfed her entire raised nipple and the sensitive tissue around it, suckling in hard enough to make her wince, her clit throbbing suddenly.

"We can go downstairs anytime you like, Luv." She squealed under his nimble tongue, crying out when the fingers of his other hand left the supporting position on her back and pressing into her cleft. "Or I could just go down..."

"We can't do this here." She whimpered. His mouth and fingers reluctantly came to a standstill. He nodded once, jaw firming.

"Right." He settled her on his lap, away from his bulging front, watching her with shielded eyes as she put her towel back in position. Disappointment pricked him at first, and then gave way to realization. _She just wants to spend time with you. Things like that are _real.

Buffy saw the smile spread slowly across his face and heard the deeply contented purring sound that Spike claimed was in no way related to a cat. "You're not mad?"

"No! You're here with me." He beamed at her. "You could be with a thousand other blokes, Luv, but you're with me. Right pleased."

She refocused on the television. "Spike? What _is_ this?"

"I've no clue. I haven't been payin' attention."

"I think it's a story about anorexic teenagers." Buffy said after a moment.

"Change it?"

"Please." He flipped the channel. "Ohh, this looks good!"

"I refuse to watch anything where the boy looks more like the girl than the girl does." Spike grumbled and flipped the channel again. Buffy sank back into his chest and sipped her juice. "Ah, now this is better." He shifted, and Buffy slid easily between his legs, cuddling into him. "Ever watch this old movie, Luv?" He asked after a few minutes.

"I prefer not to watch anything with zombies or vampires." She pouted.

"Too many bad memories? Too much like work?" He switched stations again.

"Too many inaccuracies. Did you see that guy? With the hands stretched out and the whole 'I will drink your blood' thing going on? How can you watch that? It's- it's a negative stereotype."

"I think it's funny as hell, but then again, I don't know many vamps who retained their critical eye after turning." His hand absently stroked down her arm, then across her bare chest above the towel. She seemed comfortable with it,almost unaware of it, sliding open the bag of pretzels and digging in. "Basketball?"

"Nah. Too much like a combat scene."

"We should just read a book." Spike sighed after three or four more fruitless channel changes.

"You read?" She scoffed. He glared. "Sorry, right. Smart Spike."

"Know a damn sight more about Shakespeare than you do, Missy." He reminded her. She leaned her head back into the hollow of his shoulder and looked at him apologetically. "Well, he wasn't such an old classic back in my youth." He shrugged, trying to make her feel better.

"I want to read more. But I never had much time for it." She admitted. "Plus- total valley girl before Slayer-ness happened. I was more concerned about what dress I was going to wear to the Freshman Formal than getting the grades to pass my freshman year."

"Then I'm right glad you're the Chosen One. Sounds like you were starting to turn out like Harmony." He frowned.

"I would rather be like that, than like this." She whispered. Spike was silent, his arm tightening on her.

"No." He said softly, firmly. "She didn't stay the normal little airhead, did she, Pet? You might hate what you are, but you are damn good at it, and you saved one hell of a lot of people. Including Dawn. Including me."

She knew he wasn't just talking about the few occurrences when she'd literally prevented, directly or indirectly, his death, the permanent kind. He meant his spiritual saving. Can you have a spirit, without a soul? Or maybe she'd saved his heart? Did that happen with vamps?

"Don't worry about the how and the why, Luv." Spike pressed his cool cheek to her neck. "Jus' know you did it. Saved a very, very bad man. Turned him good. Well, good enough. No one else can do what you do, Buffy."

"Are you praising me? For being what kills your kind?" She asked hoarsely, not believing her ears.

"Yeah." He laughed once, a short, dark ripple of sound. "An' if you're gettin' praise from someone like me, Pet, you know you're the best in the world."

The best in the world. Somehow, when he said it, it came out differently than the whole "Chosen One, one girl in all the world" spiel. It came out like something meritorious, not something you had thrown on you and you couldn't escape, no matter how you tried, not if you quit, heck, not even if you died. It meant something, something _earned_. "Thanks."

"Anytime." He watched her relax fully in his arms, jumping slightly when her knee lazily slid over his. Her scent was already driving him mad, and now, with her legs parted, he could practically taste her, she smelled so wonderful.

Ooh. Someone was happy." Buffy felt a surge of steel in her back, and wiggled her cheeks flirtatiously. She heard him exhale, heard the catch in it, and gloated. Best in the world. And pretty damn sexy, I guess.

"Well, since neither of seem keen on readin' at the moment," Spike said in a slightly tight voice, "I'll try to find a program we can both stand."

"Try PBS."

"That's a good idea, I'll give you that. At least they have a decent number of BBC imports on that station." He punched through a few channels and they landed on the desired station just in time to hear the announcement "The Proms, Live at the Royal Albert Hall."

"Is that like where all the royal kids have their dances?" Buffy asked curiously.

"No! Proms, short for Promenades. This can't be live though, the Proms are on in the summer. Must be footage from the live event though."

"You lost me again." Buffy sighed, hooking her other leg over his, spread open now, and knowing she was torturing him, knowing he must be dying to see what she was displaying to the bare walls.

"It's mostly classical music. Live. By the best."

"You like classical?" Buffy's eyebrows skyrocketed.

"Not especially, no. But I like it a lot better than switchin' the blasted channel every minute. Rather watch Top of the Pops, but you lot don't have that here."

"Who of the what?" Buffy looked up at him, forehead tilting back until it was under his chin and she could watch him smirk. Devilishly handsome smirk. Dammit. He'd caught the hungry look in her eye.

"It's about music, Luv. Can we leave it at that?"

"Okay. This is pretty though." The applause was dying down and the exterior shots of the famous hall were replaced by the sight of an impressive orchestra.

"I hope it's not somethin' sappy, 'cause if it is, Pet, I'm turnin' back to the soddin' horror movie."

Fortunately, the program seemed to suit them both, interesting enough to tolerate, background enough to ignore in favor of more interesting sounds.

Like her soft little gasps when I rub her shoulders, Spike thought with delight. Rubbing down, down, popping the towel open, and finding her breasts, cupping the tender handfuls. "Am I doing this right for you, Sweetheart?" He murmured in her ear.

"Uh-huh." She nodded, eyes closing, worries of sitting naked in his arms temorarily banished by the sensations his fingers created.

" 'Cause you know I meant it, when I said I was your willin' slave. Only true words spoken in that song. An' you can always show me what you want, Pet."

"You're doing fine." She gasped sharply as thumb and forefinger gently kneaded each nipple. "Both sides seem to be un-numb."

"Both are feeling at full capacity." He squeezed both breasts more firmly, smiling against the nape of her neck, licking it softly, telling his demon to stay down, not to get excited by the rush of red sweetness dancing just millimeters away. Think about other juices...

He really shouldn't do this to me. Here. Buffy made a soft moan of need as two of his fingers tiptoed into her slightly swollen opening. He's gentle though. Who would have thought he could be so gentle? And, she lolled her head back to kiss him, turning in his lap in time with the rising orchestration, I should return the favor.

"That's enough normal for tonight." She whispered.

"We've only been here for half an hour, Luv." Spike made a token protest. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." She nodded.

"I'll go get some light for us." He reluctantly left her warmth and sprang through the aperture to the second level. "Oh, Luv, can you turn off the telly and grab the plastic bag from the hardware store?"

"You remembered the alarm clock and umbrella? With all the demon spit worminess?"

"Yeah, well, promised you. I keep my promises. To you." He used the torch to light one pillar candle and then took it around to the others, creating a soft yellow glow. He'd have to invest in some scented ones, ones she'd like. Ones that covered up any lingering traces of death or decay. Or soddin' demon spit. "Think it's alright down here."

He loved watching her descend. Pretty little feet, slim legs, that cherubic derriere and the rest of the stiffy-causing package. She hopped lightly over the last few rungs, and into his arms, kissing him hungrily, sliding her hand possessively into his shorts and sliding them to the floor with a quiet grunt.

Good as it felt, he was still hell-bent on keeping promises. And not waking up next to Buffy's inner bitch. "Here." He reached into the bag and pulled out the small, old fashioned brass alarm clock. "Set it. If you're plannin' to stay for a bit. After." He tried to sound casual.

It'd be nice to get the mind-blowing orgasms and leave, some part of Buffy stated rebelliously. And you know he'd let you. But that was only half the package. The nice part, the extra nice part, was falling asleep where she was safe and loved, and where the dreams stayed away, unable to get past her own peculiar guardian. Her best shot for a taste of heaven. Wrong, but true.

He watched her slowly setting the alarm, struggling with each turn. Bargaining with herself to see how long she could stay and satisfy her need, as well as go and complete her duty. "Look, Buffy," He opened cautiously, voice extremely soft, not provoking an outburst at the forefront of his mind, "you don't have to choose. You don't have to juggle between us an' them. I can go in quiet, direct to your room, and come out before sunrise. We can be quiet, Luv, if we had to. We saved the soddin' world together, and defeated a glorified serial killer with her buggerin' magic mirror. We can handle keepin' still."

She was silent, and the alarm was set for half past one. Her eyes met his, mouth in a grim half-smile.

"Okay, Pet." He agreed to her unspoken denial. "Jus' offerin'."

"I know. I know." She put the alarm on the nearest flat surface, pushing candles aside carefully. She struggled to find an explanation, and he kissed her into silence.

"No need for words." He smiled softly.

She drew him to the bed, and he marveled at her. She could be so sweet when she let her guard down. His lips made a smooth path of kisses from her mouth to her thighs, which eased open perfectly, as if they'd been waiting for attention all night. And the sweetness unfolded. See how far under the surface he could scratch...

"Bit wider for me, Luv." He breathed. She obeyed, and he started with wet, open mouthed kisses, drinking her in, tongue doing a minimum at first. She twitched and raised her pouting sex to his lips. Baby wants more, he thought smugly. "Show me where you want the attention, Pet, I'll give it to you."

Her cheeks flamed, and she almost sat up. Was he making a game out of this? "Spike-"

"Just want to do it how you want it. I know you like how I _do_ it, but I want to do it the way you _want_ it. D'you see?" He said sincerely. Her fingers hesitantly caressed her pink pearl, and he nodded. He took it into his mouth and swirled the tip of his tongue over it before sucking in hard, making her gasp shrilly. "Now what?" The same motion again, fingers less hesitant now. He repeated his ministrations, this time working her hand down under his tongue, to her opening. "Here? Do you like that, Precious?"

"Yes, you know I do." She confirmed, and then stopped talking. She had trouble forming coherent words when his tongue was dancing inside her. "Stop, stop." She finally exclaimed, panting, and half sitting.

"Hm? Why?" He looked genuinely puzzled. "You sound happy with what I'm doin'."

"Need you inside." Her fingers arched over his and drew them up to rest over her patch of curls. "Stupid love-ache thing."

"That hasn't stopped yet?" Spike whispered, sliding easily on top of her.

"No. I mean, yeah. It does. But it comes back every few hours. Maybe I have a bladder infection instead." She smiled brightly

"This relationship is based on your deep need for my love, an' my body bein' in yours. Not some soddin' trouble in your waterworks." Spike growled.

"Did yours go away? That pain? When you need the person you love?"

"It goes away when you're near me, Luv. Didn't hurt at all today. If you stop worryin' so much about bein' with me, imagine yours'll stop, too." He quickly pressed on, past her angrily opening mouth. "I know you're tryin', and I know it won't happen for a long time, if ever. In the mean time..." He shoved himself in deep and hard, bottoming out inside her tight channel on the first stroke. "I'm more than happy to take the ache away, every few hours if you like."

"Need a guy with stamina." She laughed, hands twining around his forearms.

"Got that." He smiled cheekily. "An' it's all yours."

She lost track of the amount of times they had brought each other to the peak and tumbled over it. Lost track of the positions they'd been, only remembered his body inside hers from every angle, and how he never lost that look of adoration. I hope my face shows how much I love him. I don't think it does. I think I can't take my mask off anymore. Oh, God. He might not know how much I love him... For a split second, her superior voice assured her that this was how it should be. Keep him guessing, make it easier when the time came to cut it off. But she wouldn't be cutting it off. It might never get better than this, a few sneaky hours of sex every night or other night, but it wasn't going away. "Hey!" She rasped out, this time riding him hard, swollen pussy clamped around his base, her hands flat on his pecs. She dug her nails in to make him open his eyes, erasing the look of utter ecstasy on his face.

"What?" He roved his hands from her thighs up to her slender neck. "What's the matter?" She nuzzled her cheek deeply into his palm, and her green eyes blared at him, shouting for his attention.

"Do you know how much I love you? Can you see it in my face?" She asked desperately.

"Sometimes. When we're makin' love, yeah, I see it then. Least, I hope I do."

"I think I'm wearing that mask. The one where you have to make your face look like it doesn't hurt? That you can stand to be here?"

"Sweetheart, you don't have to be here. I know you said it hurts to love me, but-"

"No! I mean, yes, it does hurt to love you, it confuses me and gives me all kinds of big, headache-y, 'Buffy brain go boom' thoughts. But that mask, that's for the rest of the world. I showed you what was going on underneath. When it was bad. And now that it's starting to get better..." She trailed off.

"You wanna make sure I can see it?"

"Because you always show me how you feel. Good or bad."

"I can tell how much you love me." Spike stroked a single finger across her lips, tracing a smile onto them.

"Really? I look happy?"

"No, Pet, not always. But you look fierce. An' determined. Like you're fightin' for this, an' I know how much you love me then. You wouldn't fight whatever nags you to run unless you loved somethin'. Or someone."

"I love you. I don't always want to. But I do." She closed his answering mouth with her own, plunging down on him hard and writhing and grinding there, milking him until he roared out his release. Immediately after, she let herself go, his shuddering spending pulsating the spot that triggered a tidal wave of pleasure.

He pulled her down beside him, and they lay face to face, breathing hard and caressing each other's spent bodies.

I made him sweat again. I think I need to stop doing that. Vampires shouldn't sweat. I'm messing with vampire physiology. I wonder if there's a book on it in Giles' library? I wonder how the heck I'd ever sneak it out without him asking a hundred questions or asking me to write a summary...

She's the most beautiful thing in the world. She looks better than she did last week, better each day, an' I can tell it's not faked. Spike welcomed her kisses and ran his hands longingly over her face. Poor girl. Even in here, where there's next to no light, I can see the blueish bruises under her eyes. An' it's not my fault this time. It's stress. I've gotta do somethin'. Stubborn bint. She might not want my help, but damned if I let this family's ship sink. He held her protectively, kissing the line of her scalp, tasting all the delectable traces of her salt skin.

Only a little while to sleep, Buffy sighed with despair. He was way too good in bed. She'd never fully appreciated that until she'd worked her way through every standard position she could think of and then let Spike take over and show her a couple new ones. She needed sleep, badly, immediately.

"I love you, Buffy." He murmured into her hair.

"I love you, too." She whispered. And cleared her throat. Leap of faith time, boys and girls. "I have to go to campus with Willow tomorrow. Do you want to come over and do your laundry at the house?"

He was taken aback. "Uh- yeah. Sure. Thank you. Sneak in, standard procedure?" He snickered.

"You don't have to sneak in. This was totally a slayage related incident, and you have free rein of the laundry facilities. And the shower, if no one else is there."

"Ta, Luv."

"A-and maybe you can stay for dinner again?" She pressed past her comfort zone, even while her mental brakes were squealing and her inner voice protested that she'd done quite enough with the offer of laundry and showering.

"I'd love to. An' I'll bring the dinner, alright? Pick up somethin' on the way. 'Course, might need Tara to cook it up, but I'll supply it."

"You don't need to do that." She shook her head.

"No, but I do_ want_ to do it."

"Fine." Buffy sighed. "Will you, um, be there in the afternoon when I get back?"

Hopeful little traces in her voice, so bloody sweet an' adorable. But no, he had other matters to attend to. "I'll come back at dusk. One or two things to do before nightfall." He smiled.

Buffy hated herself for asking, but she asked suspiciously, "What things?"

His blue eyes stroked hers. "Do you trust me?"

Buffy's mind did a 100 yard dash of images. Spike fleeing with all of them in the RV. Her mother and sister stashed with him because she knew she could count on him. And later that day, her family huddled in his crypt when she came to pick them up, Spike standing in front of them until he was sure it was really Buffy come to call. A broken body, tortured rather than betray her sister's secret. Dawn's voice, _he always keeps the promises he makes to his ladies_, and the dozens of interactions she'd observed between the two. His offer to let her go, find rest, if she chose to. "Do I trust you with what?" She asked in a strained voice.

"With important things."

"I trust you with Dawn." Buffy's voice broke and then strengthened. "I trust you with her life. There is nothing more important than that to me. So yeah, Spike. If it's important, I trust you."

Spike couldn't speak at first. He hadn't expected her to go so deep, almost philosophical. He cleared his throat. "When was the last time you trusted someone, Luv? Really trusted?"

Owie. Emotional gashes lanced through her, but she'd been stupid before, and he hadn't taken advantage of her weak links. He knew her real weakness was Dawn, and he'd never, ever used it. She heaved a pained sigh. "Angel. Before he changed. Everyone else has thrown me curve balls. Even my Mom and Giles. You- you I _knew_ I couldn't trust. Except when it would really count." Buffy looked at him hard eyes icing over. "I don't like trusting people." She reminded him warningly. _Don't push this... _

Spike managed to answer without a trace of bitterness. "Good thing I'm not a person then, init?"

"You can be whatever you want, Spike, but don't lose this trust. It's one more piece of my puzzle, and it was lost even before I died. You break it, I'll never get put back together." She held her breath, scared and shaky that she opened up. Why do I do these things?

"You trust me, Luv, an' I'll never give you cause to doubt it. Not when it matters. You an' Bit- you're all that matter to me anymore." He confessed, eyes gazing lovingly into hers, scraping away the layers of frost she had carefully stored up.

"You and Dawn are what matter most to me." And she melted. Only for a moment, before the fear reared back up. She turned away, huddling into the covers, scared of her admission. You let him see your softest pieces, not the physical ones. And it's just too tempting for someone who you've hurt so much. Every time he opened up a tiny bit, you sliced and diced him with the Buff-o-matic comment machine. I don't think he'd want to say anything, but when you leave yourself open like that, something bad has to happen. _At least if you're me._

She's waitin' for a taste of her own medicine, Spike surmised. A little jab, a little gloat, that I matter to her. That I matter as much, or at least in comparison, to Dawn. Or maybe she thinks I'm gonna coax her to tell me more, stroke up the old ego. Ha. Knowin' I matter to her at all is pretty bloody much all the head rush I can stand.

The comments never came. He cradled her tightly, head resting alongside of hers, lips against her temple. Silent. Silent until she trembled once, her tense nerves uncoiling in one small aftershock. "Shh. You're safe." He soothed, and rubbed her back.

She was safe. Here, with him, for now. Maybe for always. She kissed the pale fingers curled around her own, and slept.


	6. Chapter 6

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. Includes some canonical events, but with a twist. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold. _

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, iSage, Idiosyncratic Delusions, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, or other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them._

_Reviews please!_

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part VI

The jangling brass bell of the alarm clock woke both of them, and threw Spike into instant battle mode. Buffy, having had an alarm clock ever since she was seven, was calmer, but no less unhappy. "Errr. Shut up, you stupid ringy thing." She smacked the clock into silence.

"Bloody hell. Not used to that." Spike sat back down, limbs tingling from their abrupt awakening.

"Well, you better get used to it." Buffy was already up retrieving her clothes. "I can't find me other-" Her words died with a startled cry as she turned, holding one sock aloft, pants over her arm, smacking into Spike. "Okay, the 'materializing' behind me? So not funny any more."

"I think it's priceless." He smirked. "Gotta get used to this, do I?"

"Well, yeah, if you like me coming over." She said with a nonchalant shrug, pushing past him. His arm shot in front of her and she teetered in her bare feet, trying not to collide her bare chest with the rippling limb in front of her.

"I love you comin' over." He murmured, taking her shoulders.

"Spike, I- I do have to go." She said regretfully. _Or I could just stay... where I have someone to trust, someone who's so bad, but so good to me._

"I know." He bent his head to hers, lips stopping just a fraction away. "But I think the last thing you should do, an' the first thing you should do for your girl is tell her you love her. Or show her." He gave her a single deep kiss. "Good mornin', Beautiful."

"Good morning." She returned the kiss, and the smile. "My other sock?" He sighed and they searched, finding it stuffed in her shoe.

Spike dressed himself as well, and Buffy no longer made her token protests about him walking her home. "Feel absolutely naked without m'coat." He grumbled as they left the crypt, picking up his demonically tainted clothing, shoving it in the plastic bag from the hardware store. Spike shook out his duster pockets before draping it sadly over his arm. "Cigs are bound to be ruined. Dammit, that was my last pack. Lighter's okay." He flicked it and it burst reassuringly to life. "Cards, stakes, where's the key chain..."

"You have keys?" Buffy cocked her head.

"Well, yeah, I do, the motorcycle has one, but-", Spike pulled the key from one of the straps of his boot, "I got it right here. I picked up a key chain for Bit." He dangled a pink daisy on a silver chain in front of Buffy triumphantly. "Here it is."

"Oh, Spike, that's really sweet." Buffy's lips parted again, and then closed firmly.

"Yes, Luv?" Spike grinned, the moonlight glowing off of his white skin and bleached waves, hair tousled and unslicked.

"Nothing. I trust you. With- y'know- major things."

"Wanted to know if I pocketed the trinket? 'Cause I'll tell you the truth, if you like."

She wanted to ask, but she also didn't want to know. And oddly enough, she really didn't care if he took a little fifty cent doohickey to give to Dawn. Because it didn't hurt anyone, not really, and because Dawn would brighten up when he gave her something. When she got something special, just for her, not something that came along with being Buffy's baby sister.

"I didn't nick the alarm clock or the umbrella." Spike sighed, mistaking her silence for accusation, not acceptance. "But yeah, the little doodad was on the rack by the register, I was waitin' for my change, and I thought she'd like it. So I took it."

"That wasn't really a great thing to do." Buffy shook her head. "But I don't care. This time. Could you not steal things for her, though?"

"I won't steal for her- 'less it's dire. Doesn't mean I won't be buyin' her things with the money I 'earn'. An' no way do I stop puttin' money in her bank account. That's my deal, Luv. Couples make compromises?" He tempted her.

"Fine. Couple making a compromise." She smiled inside, but gave him a vicious glare on the outside. "But if you tell anyone I implied we were a- that thing, I'll-"

"Not a hint of it, Pet." Spike tucked his belongings in the pockets of his jeans and held the coat and bag of clothes far from himself and Buffy as possible. It was easier not to talk, not to inhale, the pungent stench of the clothes was faded by a few hours in the fresh air, but still clung stubbornly to the fabric.

"I'll see you for dinner tonight?" Buffy finally said as they neared her house. She reluctantly let go of his free hand.

"I'm pickin' it up on the way over. Gonna be on the bike, take Dawn for a ride, yeah?"

"Great." She nodded, head bobbing emphatically. "That'll be- just really- weird. But good!"

He laughed softly, and they paused by the oak. "I'll be by later to do my laundry. Thank you for the offer, Luv."

"You're welcome." Buffy bit her lip. Don't go. Come in with me, her heart cried, but her stupid mouth turned out the phrase, "See you later."

"See you soon." He leaned down and stashed the clothes in the hedge, taking the coat with him.

"What are you going to do with the coat? That can't be washed? Can it?"

"No, gonna run to the dry cleaners. There's a place alongside Willy's that stays open late for the demon trade. Willy's cousin runs it, I think. Although if you believe Willy, one of his cousins owns every kind of business in every part of the bleedin' country." Spike reached for a cigarette, realized he didn't have any on him, and twitched his fingers anxiously. "Guess I'll go play poker next door while I'm waitin'. Take out any nasties I see- that aren't 'round the table, anyway." He kissed her again and she returned it, hands pushing his duster away, hands raking him through the thin tee shirt. "You go rest, Luv. Be there for your sis."

"I will. I will, right after this." Buffy leaned back against the oak, pulling him with her. "I'm- I'll be happy to see you tonight."

"Me, too, Sweetheart. Love you, Buffy. Sleep well, Be safe." He picked up the fallen leather and slowly walked off, casting a glance behind him to make sure she went safely into the house. She hadn't moved. "Slayer?"

"I love you, too." She swallowed. "Spike? Whatever you do today? The important things I don't need to know about, since I trust you with what matters most? Be safe doing them." _Because you better not make me lose one more person._

"It's a promise, Luv. An' I always keep the promises I make to my ladies."

Buffy smiled and crept into the house. Warmth from his words flowed through her. Wrong or right, it was still warmth, something she hadn't thought she'd feel again. Yes. He always did keep his promises.

Spike strolled until he couldn't hear her heartbeat any longer, or smell her unique scent. Then he walked briskly, down past the seamier parts of town, coat dropped off at the small, poorly lit dry cleaners and handed over to some sickly, wizened woman at the desk. "Ready in an hour." The clerk croaked.

Prolly half demon, maybe more, Spike thought as he looked at her. Welcome to Sunnyhell. No wonder his girl had a tenuous grasp on reality, livin' in this freak show town. Spike nodded and left, heading to Willy's. He hadn't played a proper game of poker since he'd gotten back. Images of Buffy slowly removing piece after piece of jewelry, and then clothing, sitting beside him on hotel beds, stunning him with her sudden boldness. That was a much more enjoyable game, really, played with the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

He shook himself. Back to the plan. Low on kittens to trade in for blood an' even if he was tryin' to play by the white hat rules, it was gallin' to always buy the bagged stuff at the butcher's. At least this way there was a bit of sport to it.

"Clem, Jones, Harry." He nodded a greeting to the three currently around the table. "Anyone spot me a stray?" Spike headed straight to the back room, where the never ending game of poker was going on at the small round table. Night and day, demons sat here, playin' for whatever they wanted, anything but money or blood, of course, the two things he'd actually like to get his hands on. Spike sighed and sat down beside Clem.

"You didn't bring that little blonde?" Harry asked, protectively picking up his half dozen kittens curled into a ball. " 'Cause if you did- I'm out."

"Chit was just along for the ride. One time deal." Spike smiled and took a scrawny half-grown cat from Clem. "Thanks, I owe you one."

They talked as they played, but Spike didn't learn anything new. He kept his conversation casual as well, not wanting to remind these demons that he wasn't exactly the paragon of evil he'd once been. Not that Clem was the most fearsome fellow himself. "Been fairly quiet lately, hasn't it?"

"Not much to speak of since the Hellions." Jones sighed regretfully. "Stupid Slayer, driving them off."

"And I bet you helped." Harry growled, flicking his two forked tongues menacingly.

"Oh, as if you'd like living in a town once the Hellions were finished with it!" Spike scoffed. "You boys like things nice and cozy, destruction on _your_ terms." Spike pushed two of his recently won kittens on the table. "Raise you two."

"I'm out." Jones put his cards down.

"Call." Harry hissed. Spike and Clem put down their cards.

"Sorry about that, fellas." Spike said in a completely unapologetic tone. He passed the original scrawny stray that Clem had spotted him back into his arms. "That's me repaid." He took the rest of the pot and tucked them into the wicker basket at his feet.

Jones never was a good loser. He snarled and swallowed his unwholesome smelling drink. "Repaid? That's a laugh, Spike. Did you know your loan shark was in here looking for you last week?"

"No." Spike kept his tone even. "What'd the blighter want?"

"The forty Siamese you owe him."

"It's thirty, and he'll get it."

"It's forty and he doesn't seem to think so. Word is, he'll send his boys after you if you don't pay up soon." Jones and Harry shared a satisfied laugh. Or what Spike assumed was a laugh, because on Jones it just sounded like something bubbling over.

"Thanks for the heads up, Jonesy. You're a real pal." Spike wrung his hand, one foot busy under the table, undoing the flip catch on Jones' basket. He felt a few furry bodies tumble out, and he herded them to his side with one dragging boot. "When Mr. Seal-Breath comes to snap my thumbs, I'll be sure to tell him who tipped me off, did me a good turn." He had the satisfaction of watching Jones' reddish skin turn pale pink. "I'll be off then. Good game, gents." Spike hastily shoved the few kittens he'd taken from Jones into his own basket, and left the back room.

"Spike, haven't seen you around much dis last week." Willy stopped polishing his glasses and took the basket from Spike. "Hey, good night for you. Eight pints? Guessing you want the good stuff?"

"Bloody right I do." Spike slapped one silver ringed hand down on the bar top. "I'll take it to go, Willy. Now. An' all of it human. Straight human, no muck watered down with ape blood, y'know I can tell the difference."

"Would I do that to you, Spike? You're like the brother I never had."

"You have three brothers, God help your mother." Spike snarled out a short laugh, took his blood, and left. He downed two pints before he got to the dry cleaner's next door. His girl tended to deplete him fast, not to mention healing from the battle earlier. He needed to be at full strength for what he had planned for the day.

Spike paid and took his coat, now smelling only of clean leather and faint smoke traces that would never be erased, not after twenty- odd years of wearing it each day and night. That reminded him. Needed some smokes. Jamming the blood in his pockets, he made a detour to an all night market, bought a carton of cigs, and then hurried back to his crypt to stash the remaining pints.

It would be a waste of his time to head out on his self-assigned task for the day so far before daylight. He spent a few extra moments in the crypt, tidying up a bit, realizing it didn't fit his big bad image and not caring._ Makin' it nice for her. So she has a place to rest, to feel safe. _He shook his head at the stupidity of the situation. My poor girl. Feels safer, more at ease in this place of isolation and death, in a bed underground, with almost nothing geared for the living, than she does in her home, with Niblet and the wicca pair.

"This cannot go on." He hissed to himself as he gelled his hair and slicked it back. "Somethin' has to give for her, so she can stop this stress, stop this soddin' solo jugglin' act." He felt fury for the injustices done to his lethal lover overtake him, and he welcomed it. Feed the fire. Think of it, a girl so strained from almost seven years of killing and denying her own humanity, never being allowed to rest, that she couldn't even feel love until it was wrung from her. Even he, with a century of death and blood under his belt, on his hands, had never doubted his ability to love, to feel. Someone had stolen the humanity, the normal, out of Buffy's life, an' he was going to put it back. His face slowly morphed into amber eyes and fangs. _Get mad. Stay mad. Get what she needs..._

The campus was silent before sunrise, the last frat parties ended, the last drunks stumbling home. Or in some cases, Spike hopped over a sprawled out boy reeking of booze, just stumbling. "Hey, you gonna eat that?" A vamp was coming nearer, darting from the shadow of a tree, head darting from the unconscious boy to the rising light.

Spike stepped back. "No." The vamp nodded eagerly and bent down to feed. "And neither are you." He plunged a swift stake in and withdrew it, taking in the shocked yellow eyes before they turned to dust. "You'll thank me later- well you won't, actually. But he'd have given you a nasty hangover, he would."

Spike added this incident to the rage he was simmering. She can't even bloody go to bed, not until dawn, the way this place is packed with nasties. An' if she can't rest, she won't get better, an' if she has to work all night to protect the ungrateful townies who don't even bloody care to not fall asleep and be vamp chow, she'll never get her degree or have a day job. Bloody stupid wankers in charge of life. No wonder she felt like this world was hell compared to heaven. Her heaven didn't even sound that amazingly glorious. Just warmth, love, and safety. Warmth, safety, love. God, she didn't ask for much. And someone denied it to her at every turn.

Spike found the imposing marble building where the business end of college occurred. Bursar, Registrar, Admissions, Office of Graduations, Financial Aid, everything- or everyone - he might need to see in one convenient place. First things first. He picked the lock on the admissions office, and then silently prowled to the frosted glass door marked Dean of Admissions, and jimmied that, too.

Spike put on the desk lamp and sat in the dean's chair, rifling through his papers. Recent admissions. Recent applications. Recent admissions applications. Who the hell made up the files in this place? Spike huffed a cloud of smoke into his lungs and out, taking comfort in a cigarette to stop his mounting frustration. Gotta play this part cool, get my facts straight before I dive in. Where the hell was her application? He knew she'd taken it in by hand...

His glance fell to a nondescript plastic bin on the floor, bearing the label "Rejected Admissions Applications" on one side. Damn. He shuffled through the papers, and found hers second from the top. Only dropped off two days ago and rejected that fast. Bloody buggerin' pillocks. How do you decide to reject someone so quickly, not even give the girl a chance? Spike seethed on his cigarette and looked for the perfect hiding spot. Looked like his plan was going to have to be tweaked. Start from the top. No need to hurry, all that was waiting for him was a pile of filthy laundry.

Buffy twitched painfully as the alarm clock went off. "Didn't I do this already?" She muttered to herself. She slowly opened her eyes. Her room. Right. She reached over and turned off the alarm. Shower, dress, do the big sister gig. And look forward to tonight. Spike coming for dinner, and then they could leave together for patrol. He could stay there as long as he wanted, Dawn would probably need help with her homework, and no one would care.

Except that it wasn't just Dawn in this house. If it were simply Dawn, Spike would be a 24 hour "guest". He annoyed the heck out of her sometimes, but she was quickly taking comfort in him being there. _Someone there when you need him. Always. Irritatingly. Unfailingly. _But Willow and Tara- she couldn't just expect them to accept this.

Why do they have to accept him anyway? Not that they're all big with the seething hatred, but why should they get to make my decisions for me? If I want Spike to hang out here sometimes, in a non-sexual way, with no hot naked mind blowing orgasmy stuff..." Buffy stopped her whispered reflections. "Major sentence derailment." The point being, he hung out here sometimes before. He can hang out here again. As long as no one knows just how much I want him around. Everything important to me gets taken away, or I get taken away from it._ It's not happening this time. No one gets to know how much I want him._

Spike slid into his human features and turned off the desk lamp. The anger was pushed to the back. He had to try to do this without drawing too much attention- at first. After all, looked like he'd have to see several people, now that he knew her application process had died in the first stage. He sighed. Watch this pompous ass be one of the late arrivin' kind.

But he was mercifully proved wrong on that score. A portly man with hard features under puffy flesh came in even before the rest of the office staff. Spike could feel only one heartbeat for quite a distance. Excellent, so much the better. He silently slid a cigarette out and held it, unlit, to his lips. All about the attitude, Baby, he smirked to himself.

Dean Ambrose sighed at the thought of another day of reading basically the same application over and over again, just with different names and different extracurricular activities listed. He turned his desk chair around prepared to sit and get started, and let out a high, almost feminine, screech.

"Dean of Admissions?" Spike stared up at him from the chair, trying not to laugh as the man rocked backwards and came to rest on his computer keyboard, hand pressed to his chest.

"Who? Wh-what?" The Dean sputtered.

"I'm sorry I didn't make an appointment, but I couldn't believe it was true. Hoped I'd come in an' find it had all been a mistake." His blue eyes hardened and he rose, coming close, but not laying a hand on the trembling man. "There has been a mistake, but you've made it." He slid the chair against the back of his knees, and the chubby man sat heavily.

"You better get out of here right now, young man! I don't care if this is your fraternity's way of hazing someone, you-"

Spike snarled and the man's speech died off with a shriek. "Shhh. Now, you're here early, gov, an' I could make quite a mess out of you before anyone even could get to this little office." Spike flicked the door's lock shut, and flicked his lighter open. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke into his prey's face. "But that'd be a shame, because I only want you to do me one little favor." Spike slid Buffy's application across the desk. "Let her in."

"That's what this is about? An admission?" Ambrose blinked and laughed in spite of his fear. "I'm sorry if your- what is she, your girlfriend?- didn't get in. We have high standards at UC Sunnydale."

"That's a bleedin' laugh for a start." Spike growled. "Look at her numbers. Look at her transcript. She's above your so-called 'standards'!" He jabbed the attached documentation and yanked a pen off the desk. "You need to put your signature next to the little black X so this girl can get into your soddin' school!"

"Buffy Summers. Dropped courses. Dropped out." Ambrose was indeed looking at the supporting paperwork stapled to her application. "And there's a note here from the psychology department, saying that she upset our dear Professor Walsh and may have been indirectly responsible for her abrupt transfer." Piggy eyes hardened behind steel frames. "Your 'girl' may have high SAT scores, but she obviously doesn't have the self-discipline or the strength to make it through college."

"Strength? Self-discipline?" Spike's voice shook. Oh good. He got to do things his way. "Do you know why she dropped out? Do you? Her sister was kidnapped! Right on the heels of her mum dyin'! And don't even start me on the bitch professor, except to say her 'transfer' didn't come nearly soon enough!"

"Everyone has a sad song." He shrugged. "If I let everyone in who came to me with a sob story, this entire campus would be full of juvenile delinquents and idiots."

"What's a few more?" muttered Spike. "Right, I see I'll have to convince you." He chuckled. "I was hoping it would be like this..."

Ambrose's eyes widened in horror as fangs, bumps, and demonic glowing eyes replaced the smooth masculine features.

"I've got strength that you don't know even want to think about." Spike picked up a solid glass paperweight, concentrated, and turned it to powder in one fist. "Ha. See, now that feels good. Like the way it crunches, an' you know..." Spike turned to a beautiful painted vase, "human bones break so much easier."

"You can't make me-" Ambrose's protest died as Spike let out his deepest, most-animalistic roar.

"Fine. Then I rip your head off. I slit you down the spine and I leave your eviscerated carcass here for your secretary to find." Spike pulled his switchblade and flung it, aiming carefully so that his chip didn't fire. Don't hit the bastard, hit his chair, right by the ear- thwack! The blade sank easily into the soft brown leather and the Dean fainted dead away.

When he came to, Spike was leaning over him, switchblade popping off button after button on his white shirt. "Sign? Or do I start opening veins instead?"

"Sign." The man gasped. The pen and paper were shoved under his nose and he scribbled his name across it.

And magically, the handsome face replaced the grotesque monstrous one. "Capital! Bloody brilliant. Now- a few more things, before I go."

"Anything."

"You woulda saved yourself a shirt an' a couple of your artsy little gizmos if you'd done this in the first place." Spike shook his head. "Humans. Anyway," he helped the man up with a leer, "she needs a work-study program. She needs financial aid, and I don't mean loans, I mean grants, a full ride, if possible, but I'm willin' to accept that you might not be able to swing that."

"That's not my department, Honestly. I can't-"

"Bureaucratic red tape, yeah?" Spike nodded sagely. "Here's what you'll do then." He explained patiently, voice soft and soothing. "You call one of your pals in financial aid, an' you tell 'em they need to do a rush job on this, on this girl you're recommending. An' then you send your secretary over to pick up the approved papers, and bring 'em back to me." His eyes warned him not to be clever. "Please don't think you can cancel these forms once I go. Or I'll be back. And I won't be in such a happy, carefree mood."

"I see." Ambrose sweated and picked up the phone. He prayed someone else would be at work on time.

"Wait." Spike took the phone from his hand. "I'll be dialing the number you give me. This wouldn't be the time to try anything sneaky." Spike paused. "You got a work study form in here?"

"They handle that. I-I can make a suggestion. Do- do you have any idea about what work study she applied for?"

"They'll have her form, or they should." Spike answered. Ambrose waited as his captor chewed his lower lip thoughtfully."Can you get her something-" Spike paused, a safe job, not a job where she'd slave away, not a job that'd be grunt work, something she could use her head for, "that has a bit of challenge to it? But not too tirin'?"

"The college bookstore?"

"Not too many hours. But fair salary. Nothin' exaggerated." Spike said pleasantly. Ambrose looked at him in awed disgust. "What? Jus' because I'm evil I can't want the best for someone?" He quickly added a warning, "An' you breathe a single word about a scary man visitin' you to ask about your admissions process, well, if they don't lock you up in the crazy ward, I'll be back to make sure it's the last thing you said."

"I understand." Ambrose swallowed and hoarsely gave Spike the number to dial. Spike didn't hand him the phone until a tired voice said "Financial Aid, Miriam speaking." Wordlessly, Spike pressed the receiver to the dean's ear and held it in place.

"Miriam? This is Ed Ambrose, in Admissions. Please put on Jerry."

"He's not in yet."

"Is Lee in?" Ambrose puffed, panicking.

"He's- oh wait, here's Jerry. Jerry, Ed from Admissions is on line one, pick it up in your office?"

"Got it, Miriam."

In a moment Spike was able to hear the orders Ambrose relayed, smiling in satisfaction. "Jerry, find an application for financial aid and work study, Summers, Buffy. When? Uh-" He consulted his own signed form. "This week, so it should be filed under recent, undecided. No, I did decide, just this morning. And she's getting the full package, every grant dollar we have available. This is a-a special case."

"Oh, Ed. You didn' again..." Jerry's voice was accusatory and Spike smirked, whispering,

"Oh, Dean's had some fun with his freshman picks before, has he? Don't feel nearly as bad about ripping your lungs clear through your mouth is you let me down, now."

Ambrose gulped."No! She's had a hard time, a death in the family and she's a crime victim, or well, her sister was. Nothing to do with any other situation. Make it one of the memorial grants, Jerry, and do it fast. Have Miriam bring me the signed papers _now_."

"Oh, alright, alright, Ed. Hey, she also applied for work study, cafeteria, is that what you wanted, or does the full ride grant nullify it?"

Ambrose looked helplessly at Spike who shook his head.

"No." He croaked out. "Bookstore. Minimum number of hours, maximum pay rate." Spike leaned back, relaxing the pressure of the receiver on Ambrose's ear.

"Edward. This is unheard of. You didn't knock her up, did you?" Spike's sudden growl and metamorphosis at the suggestion caused the middle aged man to bite down a yelp.

"I swear. I've never met this girl. I just found out that she a rough situation going on, and we're expediting it. Do this for me, please."

A heavy sigh reached Spike's ears. "I'll get it to you soon, but I'm gonna have to run it past Hansfield in grants. I'll have up to you in a couple hours." The receiver echoed with a sharp click, and Amrose's wary eyes met Spike's amber orbs.

"A couple hours. That's do-able. I've got nothin' better to do. Laundry. Pickin' up dinner. Help a friend with some schoolwork later." Spike perched on the window ledge, carefully making sure the blinds stayed shut. "You get on with some work. I'll wait."

The dean nervously moved through his recent admission applications folder, sitting sideways, obviously afraid to turn his back on the creature behind him. "Laundry? Dinner? Death threats? What kind of monster are you?"

Spike grinned lazily. "Dunno, really. One in love?"

Buffy sat through three classes with an odd mixture of fear and longing. Look at this, all this _normal_, just waiting to be grabbed. Books, notes, other people who weren't evil. Well, probably. Or at least, most of them probably weren't.

And then came the fear and the pressure. Willow would smile at her warmly, excitement shining in her eyes, expectant grins breaking through at regular intervals. I can practically hear her, "This is so great, Buffy's going to come back to school, with Tara and I, and it'll be all ponies and cupcakes." And when I have to quit, if I can even afford to_ start_, if I can even get _in _with my grades from the last semester, she'll just be so disappointed in me. Oh, she won't say anything bad, she'll just be sad, and look at me with those wounded puppy eyes.

"I have to go." Buffy whispered suddenly, and pushed out of the lecture hall seat, Willow's amazed eyes following her, a look of stunned protest on her face. "I'm sorry!" She cried, and bolted.

Spike took the underground route to the Summers' house, her official letters of acceptance, grant offer, and work-study contract snug in his pocket, alongside the glossy photo of the two of them. Slayer probably wouldn't consider that a safe, private storage place, he smiled, and wondered where she kept her pictures. In her room, close at hand, or shoved in a drawer someplace? He'd love to go take a look, do a bit of searchin' while his clothes were in the wash, but he was past that now. He had her trust. Didn't need to snoop. Maybe during one of their attempts at normality he'd strike up a conversation and ask her.

She'd be dead pleased when she got the papers- unless of course she realized how he'd helped secure them. He'd wait a day or two, then shove 'em in the letterbox. Let her find out for herself, act proud of her and congratulate her. Maybe she'd be so relieved they could even attempt a celebratory dinner out- with all her mates of course, because it must never seem to be a date. He sighed.

Just want to have her with me, and still have her copin' down here on this not-so-heavenly plane. Why did he have the feeling that those two things would never coincide?

Spike retrieved the laundry from the hedge while running at breakneck speed. He stayed in the shadows, moving from hedge to shade tree to cellar door, and shimmied in the entrance like a back cat, quick and dark. He shrugged out of his coat the moment his feet hit the floor, and made straight for the washing machine, shaking the clothes into the basin with a look of disgust. The foul stuff had hardened on his togs, and still stank. Best to use a little extra soap and hope for the best.

He hummed tunelessly as he loaded the washer and then sat back on the pile of sleeping bags stored in the basement. What does one buy for dinner for five? Or would that be eight? Never knew when the entire Scooby clan would suddenly insert themselves in the picture. Maybe he should go root round the fridge, see what was needed. And make that a meal for ten, he an' the Slayer could pack it away.

Spike headed up the stairs as he caught the sound of frantic footsteps heading towards him. Uh-oh. No, no need to panic, this was slaying related, and she'd said- he paused, sniffed. "Buffy?"

"Hi." Soft voice with hard edges. Girl wasn't a hundred percent.

"Hi." Spike approached cautiously. "What's wrong, Luv? Thought you were out for most of the day with the college set."

"Well, yeah, but see- I was. And then, there was all this thinking, and stuff, and Willow looked all happy, and Tara was there, and we all had lattes..."

"Uh- sounds like torture, Pet." Spike stepped back and let her finish her path down the stairs.

"It was great. Oh, the classes that Willow takes are so above the Buffy-level, like metaphysical biochemistry or something crazy like that, but the thing is- slayers don't get to go to school. Slayers don't even get to live to be college age, Spike! I didn't. I shouldn't have, and I'm gonna try this one more time, and I'm gonna fail."

"You don't fail, Luv. You've never failed, even if you had to die to finish the job, you finished it." They locked eyes. "I know, not the best choice of words, but it's the truth."

Buffy sat down on the stack of sleeping bags with a thump, head down in her hands. "I know. That's why I came home."

"To get away from them? The duty thing?"

"To find you. The peroxide pain in my ass. You have this really annoying habit." She kicked off her shoes and lay back with a chest shaking sigh.

"Do I? And what's that, Precious?" Spike stood by the place he had so recently vacated, and watched in awe as she scooted over, making room for him.

"You don't bullshit me. Maybe I didn't want to hear it, but I needed to hear it."

"You comlimentin' me?"

"I guess. Yeah, I am." Spike eased down beside her. "You make me feel okay. Okay-_er_."

"That's my goal, Luv." Being close to her like this, with her permission, in her home, did things to him. Gave him a feeling of acceptance and peace, love. Her love. It also had the unfortunate of making him feel a sharp rise in trousers. Close to him, all warm, and- he sniffed again- wet? "I missed you, Slayer." He whispered, snuggling closer to her.

"I missed you, too." She admitted, closing her eyes, head bowing helplessly into his shoulder.

"Hey, hey. None of that. No defeat in you, Buffy. You an' me, always bloody but unbowed, yeah?"

"No. Not you and me." She raised her eyes to his. "With you and me, I'm allowed to give in, a little. As long as no one knows."

"Right." He sighed softly, and folded her in his arms.

Her mouth was on his first, to his surprise. And he was even more surprised when he broke it off. Her eyes bloomed with hurt and it stabbed him. "Don't look at me like that, Precious. Just makin' sure you know what you're doing."

"I was kissing you. Should I stop?"

"We're in your house. An' I don't know when your mates are due home-"

"Not for an hour or more."

"Last time we got cozy here, you damn near did yourself in with the Martha Stewart act afterwards." Spike reminded her with a bitter smile.

"I know. I don't need that. I mean, I do- but I just- can you just-?"

He didn't make her say it, didn't make her finish the heart pulling sentence. "Of course I can." He wrapped his arms around her. She might want to make love, God knows he did, but they could save it for later. If she just needed a spot of cold comfort, she could have it. He was certainly getting his own version of satisfaction, holding her sweet self to him.

"Why do you do this?" She asked after a few minutes of silence, tracing the pale hairs on his even paler arms.

"To be near you. To give you love. To remind you why you stick around this trash heap of a planet." He spoke bluntly, but softly.

"What do you think they'd say? If they ever knew? Do you think-"

she swallowed, "that they'd take you away? Or take _me _away?"

"Not your friends, Luv. They're so glad you're back, they'll accept you however you are, whoever you're with, you know that. The thing is just to tell them."

"I can't." _I'm supposed to be brave. I've looked death in the eye, why can't I look my friends? 'Cause with death you escaped, with your friends, you've got to live with them after your "confession"._

"I know. I know you can't." He soothed. "I know you're tryin' though." A thought struck him. "Y'know, your lot got used to me- while you were gone." He swallowed sharply, and wondered if he'd always do that when he mentioned her absence. "And you've gotten to like me, while _they _weren't in the picture. I think it's just a matter of meshin' the two halves together." In all honesty, that's what he thought needed to happen. _An' that'll happen when the Earth starts spinnin' backwards. _

"I don't mesh, Spike. I _can't _mesh. When I tried to mix high school with slaying, half my graduating class got eaten by a snake or blown up! When I tried to blend slaying with being a daughter and a sister, my mom got kidnapped, got held by a deranged slayer, got attacked by who knows how many demons, and Dawn got kidnapped, offered as a sacrifice, and dated a vampire. Not a nice one. And when I tried to mesh dating and slaying-"

"Whoa, whoa now." Spike held up a protesting hand, halting her speech before they could wade into that dangerous territory. "Half that stuff would've happened anyway, livin' here in Sunnyhell, and the only reason anyone in your soddin' high school survived, or why Dawn's still here, is _because_ you're the slayer. And as for datin'-" He smiled ruefully, "we don't do that, now do we? So we're safe."

"You aren't supposed to bullshit me, remember?" She said with playful irritation and tossed her hair in annoyance. He was momentarily speechless as the golden tresses slid across his face.

"That was charm, Luv, nothing fake about it." He rocked his hips gently, not trying to initiate any intimate contact, just to settle in more comfortably.

"In that case," she smiled up at him, "we have an hour before the rest of the world comes crashing in, and you have to go pick up dinner."

"What would you like to do?" Spike stroked her back softly.

"Just talk to me?"

"Words I never thought I'd hear." Spike laughed. "Well, let me see..."

She fell asleep in his arms, or he fell asleep in hers. She just knew the soft vibration of his words close to her ear lulled her gently to rest. He knew that her warmth subtly eased out any aches left from last night's battle, or it could have been the fact that he'd had almost no sleep in the last day or so. But suddenly he had no greater desire than to close his eyes. A few rumpled pads of nylon on a hard cement floor felt like the finest mattress, when she was lying beside him. "Love you." He muttered as he drifted off.

"Me, too." She replied in a sleepy, fuzzy voice, and everything faded to a dreamless gray.

"Hrmm -hrmm." A soft cough made Buffy's eyes flutter, and Spike's nostrils twitch.

"Hrmm -HRMM!" The cough was louder and more insistent. "Hey!"

"Da-aawwn." Buffy groaned, throwing her forearm across her eyes.

"Shh, Niblet, grabbin' forty winks." Spike grumbled.

Buffy's eyes screamed open with a gasp. Spike's voice. Dawn's voice. Her voice. Her and Spike's sleepy voices in close succession and distance, with her baby sister in the same room. "Oh my God!" She jerked from his arms and sat up with a cry of alarm.

Spike sat up more slowly, jaw popping slightly as his mouth opened in an airless wince.

Dawn stood over them, arms crossed. The expression on her face was a cross between severe smugness and hyperactive giddiness. "Well, well. What do we have here?"


	7. Chapter 7

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. Includes some canonical events, but with a twist. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold. _

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, iSage, Idiosyncratic Delusions, Amiradanielle, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, or other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them._

_Reviews please!_

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part VII

"Dawn! This is so not what it looks like!" Buffy scrambled to her feet, while Spike moved more slowly, warily.

Here's where it all unravels, he thought with a deep sigh. Poor Niblet, she'll hate herself if she ever finds out she was the one that sent Buffy into guilt overload.

"It looks like you two had a nap. Your clothes are on, you weren't all making out-y or grope-y, so to me it looks like you both probably patrolled a lot last night, met up down here for some reason and fell asleep 'cause you were so wiped." Dawn crossed her arms and looked at her sister with a quirked eyebrow. "But it isn't what it looks like, huh? So you and Spike just made with the-" Dawn's face was starting to get an amused leer on it.

"NO!" Buffy's denial was explosive, and Spike had to laugh.

Good on Bit. Never thought I'd hear the Slayer stay speechless for so long. He backed Buffy up. "Honestly, it happened pretty much like you said, Snacksize. I got sprayed by some big nasty last night an' Slayer offered me the use of the laundry facilities to try an' get some of the crud off my clothes."

"Uh-huh." Dawn still looked playfully smug, and Buffy twitched uncomfortably. Behind her, Spike gave a subtle shake of his head, a warning not to press. "Okay. That's cool." Dawn hugged her sister hard, saving up each embrace in case she suddenly went back to being all cold and miserable, and then gave Spike a quick one armed hug as well. "Actually, it's better than cool. I think it's great! Your secret is safe with me." Dawn bounced on her toes once with a girlish excitement before remembering she was supposed to compose herself, act like it was no big deal.

"Dawn... there is no secret. Okay?" Buffy paced back and forth once and then drew Dawn a few steps away, tight grip on her shoulders, eyes boring into hers. She cast a watchful eye at Spike, who took a few steps back. "Listen to me. We kissed and we fell asleep. That's all." For today, she silently added. It wasn't a lie. It was a half truth. But did that matter? She still lied to everyone. Everyone but him. "Don't make a big deal." Her voice hitting the last words hard, emphatically. "It won't happen again." _Not where you can catch me anyway..._

Spike frowned, aching inside. Did she forget he could hear her, no matter how low she kept her voice? He didn't think she would actually stop coming to him, it would just be shoved down, deeper from the surface. She'd slide away from all of them again, and maybe this time he'd be included in the "all of them". Where'd she run to, if not to him?

Dawn's pleading voice interrupted Spike's worrying and Buffy's guilty thoughts. "Oh, c'mon, please can it happen again? Please?" She looked between them with big hopeful eyes.

"Dawn it's not that-" Buffy began her explanation, but Dawn rolled over her, voice gaining momentum.

"Why? Willow has Tara, Xander has Anya, but you're both alone." She pouted as she spoke, and continued. "You both need someone, too!"

"Kid's got a point." Spike muttered, earning a smile from Dawn and a glare from Buffy.

"I'd feel so, so, _so_ bad if you stopped because I caught you taking an innocent little nap!" Dawn's voice shrank, and Buffy's face lost her hardened look.

"Sweetie, listen. Things aren't so simple."

Dawn's plead became an all out whine. "I know you love each other."

Spike shushed his lover preemptively. "Let her talk, Slayer."

"And you both love me, I love both of you." Her voice shook and dropped to nearly inaudible. "Why couldn't we be a family?"

"A family? A _family_? Dawn are you-" Buffy's barbed tongue went on the defensive. Spike knew why. 'Cause she wants it, too. Maybe not family in the traditional sense, but she wants me around, in the picture. Doesn't like dividin' her life into neat little boxes marked "Slayer" and "Ms. Average".

But she doesn't get to take it out on Niblet for wantin' the same things. "Well, to be fair, we're makin' a start, Bit. We're havin' a dinner. With everyone." He smiled and clapped his hands once briskly. "Now, let me throw these things in the dryer an' you an' I'll go walk over, pick up the bike and get some groceries for this feast."

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Buffy stepped between Dawn and Spike.

"Tryin' to move us along." Spike said grimly, brows lowering.

"He didn't like that you were about to go all psycho Buffy, just 'cause I told you something!" Dawn added petulantly.

"Dawn!" Spike and Buffy shouted together, twin expressions of annoyance on their faces.

Instead of looking chastised, Dawn looked amused. "You're just so awesome together." She heaved a deep, girlish sigh.

"Oh," Buffy sank back onto the sleeping bags, "just don't tell anyone. And don't say the 'family' word. Because it doesn't work like that. No matter how much you want it." She wrapped her arms around herself. _No matter how much I want it..._

Spike gave Dawn another warning look, and she sat quietly beside her sister instead of questioning. "Okay."

"Right then." Spike shoved his clothes in the dryer, and automatically dumped the full laundry basket of clothes on the floor into the washer. "Snackpack, is this yours or the lover wiccas?"

"Mine. Perma press, no bleach." Dawn kicked her heels against the floor, leaning against Buffy's shoulder.

"He does your laundry?" Buffy hissed.

"No! He's not the maid." Dawn rolled her eyes. "He helps out sometimes, geez. I've done his laundry before, too."

"Luv, do you want to get all the Scoobies over? Any ideas what I should pick up?"

"I vote ham. And mashed potatoes." Dawn chirped.

"Ham? That takes like three hours to cook, Dawn, even if you get a little one."

"So? We can eat late. The shop won't even be closed for like, four more hours, so Anya and Giles can't even get here until then."

"It's expensive." Buffy whispered. "He's paying and-"

"And you don't worry about that right now." Spike said sharply, turning back from the dryer. "This is a bloody once a year or less occurrence, so you'd best take me up on it."

"Spike, seriously. How are you going to fit ham, potatoes, whatever else you need, plus Dawn, on the back of a bike?"

"Good balance." Spike muttered. Hadn't thought of that. Why'd she do that? Just when he was prepared to be all noble and familial (hush, that's a dirty word now), and put up with her mates, she had to point out the flaws in his plan. She was always the flaw in his plan...

"Could we take the car?" Dawn asked hesitantly.

"I don't have my license." Buffy replied automatically.

"I won't crash it." Spike offered, not looking at either of them, face pointed firmly up the stairs. There was silence.

"Fine. I'll stay here and round up the gang, you two have a nice time at the store." Buffy groaned.

"No, you come, too." Dawn said.

"But- you want your time to hang with Spike." Buffy said, hoping her tiny nagging jealousy, and her massive brain-meltingly huge worry about Spike driving her mom's car, were concealed under the lilt of her voice. Why shouldn't Dawn spend some time with Spike, from all accounts, it sounded like he'd been the one to help her through some of the most difficult things in her absence. They could handle grocery shopping.

"We want you with us." Dawn yanked her sister to her feet, and gave Spike the nod.

"We sure do, Luv. Want you with us all the time." Spike's voice was a dusky purr, and Dawn gave him the slit throat sign. "I mean- uh- yeah. We do. Can't take your mum's car out without you in it." He checked with his pint-sized partner for approval and Dawn rolled her eyes.

"Oh, God, you two. Just stop it! You're not as subtle as you think." Buffy laughed, giving in. "We'll all go."

"Yay!" Dawn squealed and streaked up the stairs. "Shot gun!"

"Oh, so no way!" Buffy cried, pounding up after her. Spike watched them with wide eyes and a wider grin.

"That's my girl. My _girls_."

Tara and Willow rounded the corner to Revello Drive, and Willow stopped short, right in the middle of a heated debate about their Ethics of Education class.

"Honey, you can't make a point by stopping in the middle." Tara pointed out impatiently.

"The car! Joyce's car, it's gone!" Willow broke into a run.

"Buffy never drives the car!"

"Oh, my God, Dawnie! She wouldn't have, would she?"

"No. No, I don't think so." Tara put a worried hand to her mouth. The two lovers rushed into the house, calling for Buffy or Dawn, and getting no response. "Call the Magic Box?"

"Yeah. And then I'll ask Anya if Xander's there, and if not we'll-"

"Ooh! We'll check Spike's crypt. Dawn loves to hang out over there. She wouldn't take the car, I hope, but Buffy might have." Tara looked extremely doubtful, knowing Buffy disliked cars.

"Buffy ran out of my late morning class, she was all freaked but she didn't say why. I don't know where she'd go these days. Maybe to train? But she wouldn't need the car." Willow was dialing the store and Tara ran upstairs, double checking that no one was asleep or using headphones or something.

"I hear the car!" Willow hung up just as Anya answered with her chipper "The Magic Box, your one stop place to shop-" . Tara joined her girlfriend at the bottom of the stairs, and they hurried outside- barreled into by a leather coated figure with his arms full of paper sacks.

"Oh, sure give the vamp the ice cream! Prolly melted as soon as I hit that little patch of sun!" Spike was shouting over his shoulder. "Hi, ladies." He addressed the occupants he had just slammed past.

"Uh..." Willow trailed off, blinking in puzzlement. "Are those groceries?"

"For tonight's dinner. I'm buyin', you're fryin', alright, Mother Nature?" Spike pushed the bags into Tara's arms.

Dawn and Buffy stomped in, carrying more bags, good naturedly arguing. "_You _gave him the bag with the ice cream, I said_ I'd _take it."

"No, you said, 'you guys have super strength, why do I have to carry anything?'. So shut up about your precious rocky road." Buffy contradicted.

"Guys? Um, happy with all the ice creamy goodness, but what's going on?" Willow asked tentatively. The three of them seemed so happy, relaxed, and bonus, edibles, but- it was- really unusual. Reeeeallly unusual.

"Owed Niblet a bike ride, and it turned into a car ride, and then runnin' some errands." Spike supplied quickly.

Buffy took a deep mental breath and faced her friends. Gotta try, right? This is an innocent enough way to start. Plus, they've seemed- mildly supportive?- of her growing interest in him, even if they weren't sure what was motivating it. "Spike was just being a good friend. He treated for dinner, he uh- knew I've been kinda stressed lately." She ran her tongue over her lips nervously.

She called me a good friend. She called me a friend, any kind of friend, in front of her mates. Bloody hell. Spike tried not to look smug, which given his disbelief and gratefulness that she was finally taking a stab at combining him socially with her little Scoobies, wasn't too hard.

Oh yeah, Houston we have lift off. Dawn beamed at her sister.

"That was really nice of you." Tara smiled a genuine smile at Spike.

"Uh-huh." Willow tried to keep her bottom jaw out of the vicinity of her knees. Shocked was not even the word. She'd thought Spike was a part of the "team", a scary, bad, not always desirable part, but still critical. And when he tried to be, he was nice-ish, even sans soul. He'd been so gentle and understanding about Tara when Glory had hurt her. So good with Dawn... Hearing Buffy call him "friend" was like walking into a really clear window. You knew it was there, but you didn't always see it.

"So. It's ham. Dawn's idea. And there's potatoes. Should we go cook?" Buffy asked in an overly bright voice.

"A ham? As in a whole ham?" Tara peered into the bag.

"Niblet's idea." Spike pointed to the teen.

"We're never gonna eat all of this! We'll be having ham sandwiches for a week." Willow took another one of the bags from Dawn.

"Leftovers?" Dawn suggested.

"Maybe we could call the rest of the gang over?" Buffy bit her lip again, looked around at her friends, eyes lingering longest on Spike, and headed off into the kitchen.

"Help me study for my French test?" Dawn asked Spike, who nodded automatically, watching his petite bombshell set to work in the kitchen under Tara's supervision.

"I'll call the Magic Box." Willow said hollowly.

It was Dawn's idea to turn a holiday dinner minus the holiday into a fancier occasion. "We're having a special _family_ dinner. The _whole_ family is gonna be here." She said loudly, smugly, daring Buffy to argue with her. Spike closed his eyes and instantly inserted a cigarette into his clenched lips, but Buffy just groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You can use the good plates."

Willow joined in, catching Dawn's enthusiasm. "Ooh! Let's get the fancy candles and find a centerpiece to put out."

"Tablecloth!"

"We have matching linen napkins somewhere..."

"I'm trapped in an episode of the soddin' Brady Bunch." Spike growled, getting out of the dining room.

"Don't smoke in here, you'll get ash in the potatoes!" Buffy yelped and protectively carried the bowl to another part of the counter.

"I'm gonna go hide in front of the telly then, alright?"

"Oh no you don't, mister, you come right over here and peel these carrots." With a muffled curse, he obeyed, first stubbing out his cigarette in a glass ashtray Tara had bought over the summer for his use.

"I paid for the bloody things, can't I jus' sit back an' watch you lot fix it?" He didn't mind really. Plus, now he was shoulder to shoulder with Buffy, and being close to her lightened the burden of any task.

"No. You're part of the family-tonight- so you work." Her lips burned when she said the words, guilt at making it a temporary state of affairs. Angry at herself for throwing in that qualifier, warring with an ache inside that insisted having him there felt right. _I want him to be part of this life, but I don't want him to get taken away. Do I think my friends would do that? Not really. Have they ever? No... _She forced herself to push the deep introspections aside. She turned to Spike with a mock serious face. " But I'll excuse you from dish duty." They exchanged a smile, and both of them took a half step inward, bringing their shoulders together.

"Part of the family?" He murmured softly.

"Yeah. I mean, involved in it." Voice dropping to a whisper. "Dawn's such a little noodge isn't she?"

"If 'noodge' means she likes to press you to see how far she can push 'til you pop, yeah, she's a champion noodge."

"Well..." She took another step inward, so that now her shoulder wasn't just brushing his, it was pushing into him. "I'm glad. _This_ time."

"I'm glad, too. You're meshin' right along here."

"I think my nap helped." She gave him a significant look, and he quirked his lips into a half smile.

"Good, Pet." Voice dripping down to a silky whisper, "I don't think either of us is as 'well-rested' as we could be though."

"Problem of 'napping' in the basement. Finish it later?" Green eyes seducing him.

"Mmhmm," He let his hip nudge hers subtly.

Or not so subtly, as it turned out. Tara, Willow, and Dawn were standing in the doorway, silently watching, Dawn smugly glowing, Tara gently smiling, and Willow wearing a look of confusion. She opened her mouth to speak and Dawn shoulder chucked her out of the room.

A pained cry and the sound of silverware clattering caused Buffy and Spike to turn. No one behind them. "Stop fooling around in the dining room!" She shouted. Geez, hadn't the house gone through enough with the ghosty spirit hitchhiker thing that came back with her, not to mention the mercenary demon? "You break it, you buy it!"

"What was that for?" Willow rubbed her hip and Tara glared reproachfully at Dawn.

"Shh!" Dawn hastily gathered up the silverware and looked anxiously over her shoulder into the kitchen. "I'm so, so sorry Willow, I had to make you be quiet. I saw your face. You were gonna go all 'Hey, what are you two doing?'."

"Yeah, I was. Did you-"

"Shh!" Dawn hissed more frantically. "I know. They were making with the close body language and stuff. But it's okay. He's not-" She couldn't explain, and she knew she had acted stupidly by taking abrupt action. But she had promised their secret was safe with her. And if there was one thing she had learned from both Spike and Buffy, keeping something safe meant you protected it. She couldn't let anyone squash things for her two of her most favorite people in the world. Not even the favorite runners up.

"He's not hurting her?" Tara supplied. Dawn nodded gratefully. "I know he wouldn't hurt her, Dawnie, it's just that sometimes-" Her voice died away when she heard the sound of Buffy's laughter, a real, genuine laugh, mixing with Spike's sudden loud guffaw and an exclamation.

"Wow. She sounds so happy." Willow said wistfully. Dawn's eyes pleaded with her. "He makes her that happy now?" Her confused look was back in force.

Promising to keep secrets is a bitch, Dawn thought miserably, and gave no indication if Willow was right or wrong.

"That's a good thing, Baby." Tara rubbed each girl's back, standing between them. "All we want is for her to be happy. With a good guy. As a friend. O-or more than a f-friend, it's fine."

"He's not a good guy." Willow chewed her knuckle.

"He's not a bad guy either!" Dawn defended sharply.

"I am gonna kick your pale ass into the next century if you don't give me back the potato peeler!" Buffy's voice broke in again.

"Ha! Like you could ever lay a hand on me, if I didn't want you to!"

"So you've got thing for broken noses then?"

"Any touch from you is a good touch, Luv."

"Shhh! Not so loud! You drive me crazy, you know that, right?" Buffy's voice sounded more secretive now, dropping.

"Mutual, Slayer." Spike's voice died away. The conversation from the kitchen continued, but now only dull undercurrents of noise could be heard.

Willow's eyes widened, meeting the knowing stares of the two other women in the dining room. The teasing, the closeness, the unforced laughing, it added up."She loves him? She loves him back? I need to sit down."

Dawn, sworn to secrecy couldn't confirm or deny. Instead she asked in a miserable whisper, "If she did, just say she did-you guys would be okay with it, right?"

Willow gave no response. Tara's voice was quiet but firm. "You can't always choose who you love. What you do about the feelings you have, that's different. That choice is up to her."

"But Spike..." Willow trailed off. She watched Dawn abruptly leave the room, the pressure of keeping secrets having become too much for her, and faced Tara's calm expression. I loved a werewolf. I love a witch. A woman. And Buffy had never done anything but support her, never once questioned her decisions. "I'm glad I have you." Willow rose form the chair and pulled her girl into her.

"Me, too. I-it's nice to have someone who loves you unconditionally. No matter what." Tara murmured against her shoulder.

"Whatever choice Buffy makes, I'll respect it. Oh! And, totally just had a great idea, I could put some kind of spell on her to-" Tara's eyes suddenly blazed. "Or, I could not do that at all."

"You're talented, Willow. But you gave Buffy your word, you wouldn't screw with her life. And you promised me, too. That you'd be careful with your powers."

"I know. I just don't want to see her get hurt ever again."

"We have no control over that. All we can do is be there for her, be her friends."

Willow nodded gravely, and then smiled, eyes lightening. "Buffy told me something the other day. She said 'You've got one smart honey, Will.' She was right."

"Something's wrong with this picture." Anya surveyed the feast with a critical eye. "Thanksgiving isn't for a few more weeks."

"And Thanksgiving will be held at someone else's home this year, thank you very much." Giles placed a bottle of wine on the table.

"I vote not our place." Xander spoke up quickly.

"We'll be getting all the necessary items for preparing these sacrificial dinners-"

"Ahn!"

"Sorry, 'holiday' dinners as bridal shower and wedding gifts. Then we can have it next year."

"If you learn to cook by then." Giles muttered, and earned himself a glare.

"Where's a corkscrew, Luv?" Spike called from the kitchen.

"In the drawer with the spatulas and the bottle openers!" Buffy replied automatically. She met Xander's eye suddenly, and saw his frown. _Probably shouldn't have acted like I'm the 'luv'. But Spike's always called me that. To piss me off. But now I like it. I'm someone's lover. He's mine._

"Who wants to carve?" Willow asked.

"Typically the dominant male." Anya preened over Xander, Buffy gestured to Giles, and Dawn looked at Spike.

"One of you do it." Spike sat back in his chair, conveniently placed beside Buffy's tonight. "Too much like work."

"Again, I vote not me." Xander passed the carving knife and fork to Giles.

"Oh, very well." Giles sighed, and began to carve.

They survived the meal. And it was getting easier, Buffy thought. They'd had dinner with everyone the night she and Spike had returned from Cliffside, then the Bronze. Now this. And by the sound of it, Thanksgiving was going to be held there in a few weeks. Look at me try. Look at me "mesh". Go team me, I am the champion mesherologist. Now, if I can just get Xander to stop sending Spike death rays, and get Spike to stop smirking like each death ray is a blood-flavored lollipop, this might work out...

She was doing so well. Almost able to relax. Spike rubbed her knee reassuringly under the table, making her start and then smile at him. Xander was regarding them suspiciously, the rest of them, knowingly. Even the Watcher, with an expression of held in anger, seemed to have an inkling. Cat's out of the bag-but it wasn't me that pulled him free, Spike thought, and determinedly began talking to Dawn about something, ignoring everyone else.

Whenever Xander seemed ready to start probing into the new dynamic between Spike and one of his best friends, Tara and Buffy asked the bride and groom a wedding related question. This little method worked for the rest of the meal, but there was an almost palpable feel of relief when Willow rose and began to clear.

"Excellent job." Spike paused awkwardly by Tara's chair. Then he turned to the others. "I should toddle along. It was-" he paused and let a perverse smile flood his features, shifting his glance from Buffy to Xander, loving how he could rile the boy, "an absolute _pleasure_."

Oooh, he was doing that on purpose, Buffy glared. And after Tara and I spent the last twenty minutes asking 101 Stupid Wedding Questions. He's so bad. _Well, yeah-demon-human combo, remember? It's his nature to want the violence, and pissing Xander off right now must seem like a lot of fun. It still has to stop. Now._ "Thanks for helping with the dinner, Spike." She said loudly, overriding Xander's actions. He had risen angrily from his chair and was getting his "I'm going to yell at Spike" face.

"Yeah, thanks for the ham." Dawn grinned up at him.

"Welcome, ladies." He could about feel the waves of frustration coming off of his lover, so he didn't bait the puffed up manly man anymore, though God knew he wasn't nearly ready to stop. "See you round for patrol?"

"Sure." Buffy said with a casual glance.

"Okay, what's with the patrolling together?" Xander burst out, unable to contain himself any longer.

"Well, Honey, if Spike goes with Buffy, there's less chance of her getting killed." Anya explained, rising from her chair and taking his arm.

"This is true." Giles muttered into his final sip of wine.

"Glad to be the inhuman shield." Spike grinned.

"If you need back up, Buff, we're here for you." Xander reminded her, ignoring Spike.

"B-but you have a wedding to plan. And you both work full time. You need to rest sometimes, plus, you know I always call you in on the big things." Buffy went to her friend, and took his hand. Annoyance began to seep in. She was grateful for his offer, but at the same time, this was one of the reasons she missed heaven. The constant thinking and feeling, trying to put everyone's feelings in front of her own, constantly torn between want and duty. Except with Spike. He was what she wanted, and the best partner for doing what she needed.

"But-"

"No buts." Spike threw himself on the proverbial sword. Draw the fire, either from him or from her, he didn't really care, but he could see the strain in his girl reaching the surface. "Slayer's gonna patrol. I might be around tonight, movin' in the same circles. Not like we're off coordinatin' a plan for world denomination, bricklayer, so ease off."

"You've gone all splotchy." Anya pointed out to her groom-to-be. "He does that when he's mad." She explained.

"Umm." Tara tried to be the voice of reason, but it was too late. Willow came in, just in time to watch Buffy lose it.

"When he's mad? He's mad? _He's_ mad? Why do you get to be mad? What are you upset for? 'Cause I'm gonna go risk my life and Spike might help protect me? I've got news for you, that's my job!"

"Whoa, Buffster, I was only-"

"No! I'm not done! You- none of you- get the right to be mad that I have to go out and kill stuff almost every night, or worry about _how _to kill stuff almost every day. I'm chosen. I get that. But the 'chosen one' dies at the end of the Vampire Slayer story. My story _was over_! _You_ brought me back, and now _I _have to go back to work again. I'm finally happy to be back, trying to live in this world instead of simply existing in it, and a huge part of that is Spike. So just- just- shut up about your anger! I'm the one who gets to be angry now." As she spoke, her face was steadily crumbling, fury and tears unclenched behind the mask, as she backed out of the room, voice raising with each step. Finally her back hit the front door, and she was gone, outside, a frustrated sob echoing in the slam of the door against the frame.

"Buffy!" A cry of dismay from everyone else in the room followed her.

"Bloody hell!" Spike rushed to the hall, pulling on his coat as he called behind him in a furious voice, "I'll get her. I'll bring her home when she's cooled off, but I _will _bring her back. Stop worryin' Niblet, she's safe with me." He turned, hearing the clamor of her friends, all wanting to help, ideas and accusations flying. "Shut up!" He roared, vamping. "Shut the hell up! You wanna help? Stay here, I can run as fast her, I'm near strong as her, and I can follow her scent 'til the soddin' world's end. I'll catch her, I'll bring her back, an' if you lot really wanna help, you'll have dinner all cleaned up an' have a nice, supportive message for her." And he was gone, having backed out in the same manner Buffy had.

"You ruined it!" Dawn glared at Xander and tore off up the stairs.

"Dawn! Dawnie!" Tara hurried after her, pausing halfway up the stairs to turn and face the stricken group at the bottom of the stairs. "This is a good thing, in a way." She assured the others. "Sh-she was able to tell us what she's feeling, keeping bottled up."

"I prefer her rage bottled up." Anya remarked nervously. "The ex-demon in me was extremely uncomfortable witnessing that. I've seen heroes lose it before. They massacre. It's like postal workers."

"Ahn! Not helping." Xander slammed his fist on the table.

"I'll go get Dawn. Anya, can you keep cleaning up?"

"Yes, definitely." Anya wanted to get far away from Xander, Willow, and Giles who looked like they were about to have a big serious discussion. Which was so unnecessary. Spike made Buffy happy. Like she made Xander happy. Humans and their silly focus on the past. What matters is now, what you do now, not what you did in the past. Xander shouldn't be with her if he was going to hold 1,000 years of violent vengeance against her. They should give Spike the same chance. After all, the chip is what made him stop, not what made him change. Like her pendant. I wonder if they get that?

"Um. Excuse me?" Anya interrupted the trio as they were about to sit in a huddle on the sofa. "Need to point something out."

"What is it, Anya?" Giles asked tiredly.

"Well, I know you're probably going to sit here and become very emotional and distraught, while analyzing Buffy's actions-"

"Good guess." Willow muttered glumly, sinking down.

"-so I wanted to remind you of something before you get started. I know you'll be thinking about Spike, since, you know, he loves Buffy, and Buffy said he makes her happy, although I'm not sure if she means friendly confidant happy or orgasm happy-"

"Dear Lord!" Giles polished his glasses and Xander looked horrified at the second possibility.

"-but, I wanted to point out something. Then maybe we can end this discussion thing early, and Xander will stop being miserable. All of you could stop being miserable." Which would make_ me_ so very happy. "You don't exactly trust Spike."

"There's good reason for that." Giles pointed out with a wan smile.

"But he changed."

"He got chipped! He didn't _change_, he got an electric shock collar placed in his brain." Xander contradicted.

"See? I knew you were doing a double standard thing. Which, I hear is sexist and wrong, and is usually held against women, but it's bad if you do it against men, too."

"Not man, demon." Xander pointed out automatically, and instantly wished he hadn't. The calm, explanatory tone left Anya's voice and was replaced with snapping anger.

"That's it! You know, I was 'chipped', in my own way. I got my pendant taken away, destroyed. I was forced to stop acting out violent revenge, forced to stop hurting and killing. Does that sound familiar, Xander Harris?"

She didn't give them time to respond. "Well, it should! Because at first, I still wanted to be bad, I tried so hard to get the necklace and my powers back, and it failed. I had to be human. I had to stay in a human body, and I met this great guy." She suddenly wiped her eyes. "I fell in love, and I wanted to be good. I changed inside. Something still held me back from being a demon, but I didn't care anymore if I had powers or not. I wouldn't use them if I had them! I wanted to be good. For you."

"Anya, Sweetie..." Xander pulled her into his lap, kissing her hair.

"And Spike wanted to get the chip out, kill all of us. And then he fell in love. And he wanted to change. He did change, for love. If he had the ability to hurt us, he still wouldn't use it."

"You honestly believe that he wouldn't injure anyone?" Giles asked, eyes locking on hers.

"I _know_ he wouldn't. Because _I_ know how he feels." Anya pushed roughly out of Xander's arms. "Excuse me. I have to go scour greasy roasting pans."

The three core Scoobies sat in their huddle, silent for a solid minute before Willow cleared her throat. "Erm-hrm. As the one who was mostly responsible for screwing up Buffy's eternal rest- and having made a promise not to screw with her life anymore, I have to say something. I'll be happy if she's happy. As long as the person she's with doesn't hurt her, and makes her happy..."

"Am I really holding him to a double standard? I mean, it's Spike!" Xander pleaded for his opinion to be valid.

"How many people did Anyanka kill?" Giles asked softly.

"Hundreds. Maybe thousands." Xander whispered. "But that's not her anymore!"

"Maybe it isn't Spike anymore either." Willow drew her knees to her chest.

"I believe he can love." Giles abruptly got up, rummaged around in the bottom of the pantry and returned with a bottle of Scotch and his empty wine glass. He placed the bottle on the coffee table and looked at them gravely. "I don't claim to understand it. I will never, for one moment, think he's a thoroughly good man, or a thoroughly reformed one. But he can love. Buffy may or may not return it in the same way, I haven't been let in on her feelings. I do know she wants him in her life. As she pointed out to me, all the men in her life that she held dear have left her. Her father, Angel, Riley. The only ones that have remained faithful, as it were, are Spike, Xander, and I."

"Come hell or high water, I'm not leaving her!" Xander vowed.

"She doesn't want you to. She doesn't want any of us to. Spike included." Giles poured a hefty measure of spirit into his glass and swirled it in the light. "I was heartbroken when she died. I was angry about the manner in which she came back." He drank deeply, eyes closed, not looking at two of the four people responsible for disturbing the resting woman. "But I will do all I can to ensure that she's happy while she's here, continuing her sacred task. If Spike makes her happy-" He shook his head. "I can't say I accept it. I can't say I don't worry or don't care. But he makes her happy, and her happiness is important to me."

"Personally, I think we're all nuts." Xander grabbed the bottle of Scotch and headed off to the table with it, finding his own glass. "But I would do _anything_ to make Buffy get with the livin' and slayin' groove again." He poured himself a small drink, hardly a swallow. "But I'm not going to be nice to him!"

"Buffy! Buffy, Luv, slow down!" Spike realized he was wrong when he said he was as fast as her. He was _almost_ as fast as her, and he felt like a greyhound chasing a mechanical rabbit on an endless track, always almost able to catch her, but not quite. Nothing he'd said could make her stop; Finally, he shouted, "You runnin' from me, Pet? Or you runnin' to me, like you do? 'Cause if you're headin' my way, you better make a bleedin' u-turn!"

Her small figure slammed him down onto the wet earth outside the blackened and rotting frame of the old high school. Sobs shook her, and he wrapped his coat around them both, holding her to his chest. "I couldn't fake it anymore. I snapped." She whispered.

" 'Bout time, too." Spike praised, meeting her incredulous gaze. "Not joking. They love you, Slayer. Enough to hear the truth, enough to tell them what you need."

"I- I didn't tell them everything."

"I know. But you did stick up for me as a friend. An' that's a good start, yeah? There's no rush." He reminded her, kissing her upturned face. "Let's get you home."

"No! No, I can't just waltz back in. I just had a complete psycho fit!"

"A well-deserved one." He smiled at her. "But the sooner you go in an' patch things up, the sooner you can come over to my place, an' I can reward you for bein' so brave. For takin' loads of first steps tonight."

She smiled slightly, before her face clouded again. "Spike?"

"Yeah, Pet?"

"One day are you going to get tired of me 'trying' and just tell me I have to 'do'?"

"Nope." He said simply. "Might get a bit ratty at times, maybe make a fool of myself. But I'm not going to press- right until that second I know you're ready for someone to give you a little push, anyway."

"And if I never get to that pushing part?" She was shaking against him, and it wasn't just the chill air.

"If I got you, Luv, I'm happy." He comforted.

"It just hurts. To feel so much. At once. All the different feelings, so confusing. I just had to run. I couldn't take them all looking at me, wanting different things from me. Dawn wants us to be a family, I think she means as in you the dad, me the mom, and Willow- just wants me to forgive her and go back to being her buddy. How can I forgive it, really forgive it, in a few weeks? Xander, Giles, I don't know what they want, I just know they don't like this, whatever it is they think we have."

"You opened up a bit. Told them what you felt. What they do next might surprise you." Spike patted her back, his head resting on top of hers. They damn well better surprise her. When I get her home, they better support the hell out of her.

"I'm not ready to go back yet." She murmured, guilt overwhelming her again. "I bet they're all upset."

"Not at you. At themselves." Spike reminded her, and pulled her slowly to her feet. He shook the damp grass and dirt from both of them. "We don't have to go straight home. Take the scenic route?"

"Does the scenic route include your bedroom?"

"It can." He held himself in check with an effort. Wanted her so much, to comfort and distract her, make the rest of the world go away, as they'd done a few times in the past week. "I don't want to put any pressure on you, Luv, it's just that-" He hated this. Hated being all soft and thoughtful, always worried about what was a push and what wasn't, and above all, denying the demon that had lived so long on the principles of want and take. He wanted her, right there, right then, what was a bit of mud? But he wanted Dawn to be okay, too. "It's just the Little Bit. She's worried."

"I know. She's weird like that. I think it's a sister thing. When I'm around her, she lives to annoy me. But apparently, when I go, it's a major tragedy fest."

"True." He smiled up at the clear sky. "Scenic route, detour to your place, conclude the tour at mine?"

"Sounds good." She took his hand. "Betcha five bucks I kill more baddies than you."

"I won't take your money." He smirked. "Not that I won't play for other things."

"Ooh. What'd you have in mind?"

The occupants of Revello Drive moved like nervous shadows. Every sound caused a wave of head turning to the front door. Dishes were long ago scrubbed, and bowls and an ice cream scoop lay out, unused.

Giles and Anya stared unseeing at books from Willow and Tara's collection, Dawn sat moodily in the seam of the couch, French text book unopened on her knees, and Xander paced the dining room.

"Shouldn't we go looking for them?" He asked for the tenth time. "It's been- well, it's been long enough."

"Stay here." Dawn growled.

"Dawnster." Xander left his pacing and sat beside her, speaking in soothing whispers, apologizing, explaining, comforting.

In the kitchen, Tara was doing her own comforting. "She'll be back soon. She's left before, a few times, when the pressure was too much. Sh-she needs someone to help her carry the load."

"I'm trying! I want to try harder, I do, Baby. What should I do?"

Tara paused in crushing some herbs recently purchased from the magic shop, intended to be a sleep aid for Buffy and Willow's restless nights. "We could ask them out with us."

"Huh?"

"A double date."

"Double HUH?" Willow took the mortar and pestle from her girlfriend's hands. "Are you inhaling this stuff? Is it bad if you inhale this stuff?"

"No! Well, actually, if you inhale too much you get a sinus infection and bouts of narcolepsy, but I'm being serious."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? To encourage them like that?"

"No, I just kinda think it might be. But even if I'm never sure, I know Spike is, and I know Buffy might be. This could be good for them, but they'll never find out unless they get the chance to try."

"But trying to get those two together..."

Tara took her partner's hands. They had been through so much together, from the very minor details of life to the major battles, death, grieving, illness, surrogate parenting. "Love makes a person stronger."

"Strong like an Amazon." Willow repeated with a quavering smile.

"Like that. Honey, it's time for us to grow up." She ran her fingers through her partner's hair. "Xander and Anya are getting married. We have each other."

"We do." Willow drew Tara even closer. "You'll always be my girl."

"And that's all I want. M-maybe we need to move things along, too. Be on our own?"

"I'd love that, Baby, you know that. But Buffy can't afford to run this place on her own, not right now."

"No, I understand that. But maybe soon, once she can. Maybe we should tell her we're thinking about it. She relies on us to help, and I want her to know we'll always be there. But maybe if we leave..."

"She'll start relying on someone else, a blonde and fangy someone else?"

"She might let herself love someone again, Willow."

"She hasn't loved anyone since Angel." She admitted softly.

"I know."

"Time for us all to grow up, then." Willow murmured.

"She's back!" Anya pelted from the living room to the door, catching sight of Spike and Buffy through the front window.

"Hey guys," Buffy entered wearily, soul resisting violently at the thought of apologizing for her completely condonable (to her and Spike, anyway) behavior.

She never got a chance to make the apology, or even gasp out one more word. Anya dragged her inside and wrapped her in a boa constrictor style hug. "Don't leave! Please don't go running away and making everyone miserable! We fully support your friendship and work and whatever else you do. Orgasmic or not."

Buffy's mouth popped open in embarrassed protest, but again, she didn't have the chance to speak. Dawn literally knocked her to the couch as soon as Anya released her. "I didn't do anything wrong, so I'm not apologizing. And you know I like Spike." Dawn bear hugged her, and then Xander and Willow were there, also explaining, apologizing, reassuring, Giles' voice talking over, Tara's quiet tones wriggling under, and somewhere in the background, Spike's catlike tread slipping out the door, into the darkness.

Finally, just Willow, Tara, and Dawn remained clustered around her. Buffy felt overwhelmed. "Mucho love and support appreciated, but-"

"You still need some space. We're cool with that. We're- frigid- with that." Willow said hastily. Tara gave her an amused glance and Willow bit her lip. "Well, not _frigid_."

"Spike left." Dawn sounded down. "His stuff is still here."

"Stuff?" Willow repeated.

"He got gunked by some demony thing last night. I told him he could use the washer." Buffy fought down the tremor in her confession.

"I'll go fold them real quick." Dawn offered, rising from the couch. "Then you can give them to him if you see him on patrol?"

"He'll be waiting for me outside." Buffy said with a shy smile. "I bet."

"He's got real good lurker qualities." Willow mumbled, and Buffy's face trembled slightly. "But hey. That means he wants to be where you are, right?"

"That doesn't bother you?" She asked cautiously.

"Are you happy hanging out with him?"

"Most of the time, yeah. I mean, it's _Spike_. He has an 'annoy Buffy' streak a mile long. But he has a-a- another kind of streak, too." She concluded lamely.

"Then have a nice time. Kill something for me." Dawn said brightly, returning with a few articles of clothing in a paper grocery bag.

"Will do." Buffy kissed her sister goodnight as she took the clothes, and hugged Willow swiftly before she left. As soon as she heard the door lock behind her she sagged wearily into the siding.

"Need a shoulder to lean on, Pet?" Spike's husky voice surprised her, right next to her ear and she almost hit him, stopping right before her fist reached his neck. "I was offerin', Luv, no need to get violent and take it from a fella."

"I thought you'd be waiting out here, but I didn't think you'd be on the porch." She hissed, leaning on the arm he extended. "Here. You left your clothes."

"Thanks, Luv. Saves me from nippin' in to get 'em tomorrow."

"In that case, give them back." Buffy grinned naughtily at him. "I like you 'nippin' in' for a visit."

"Well, well, fancy that." He smiled widely. They walked in comfortable silence for awhile, taking turns leading, finding trouble spots, and carefully keeping a tally.

"Three for three, Pet." He returned the crossbow to his pocket. "Wanna split up, we'll cover more ground?"

"You just want to go our separate ways so you can claim you slaughtered some huge number and win the bet." She frowned playfully, and brushed dust off her hands.

"I'm hurt, Precious, deeply hurt. Would I ever do such a thing?"

"To win a bet? With me? Yeah, you so totally would."

"You're right, I would." He laughed, and she leaned into him. He let her pull him in the direction of his crypt. That last battle hadn't been a challenge for her, but he suspected, and rightly so, that taking on a vamp hunting party together, fighting side by side, seeing him work and roar- made her a little damp in the knickers-region. He sniffed. Yes, he was right.

"Umm. You wanna take another sweep?" She didn't want to seem too eager.

"It's a tie. We go straight to bed." He grinned, and let his hands wander down her slender frame, ending on her round cheeks, feeling heat generating up them, straight from her core, soaking through her panties, probably starting to soak through her jeans at this point. "If you don't have any objections, Luv."

"No objections." She managed to keep her voice steady.

"I'm gonna have to think of somethin' extra special to do for my girl. You takin' a leap with your mates."

"They were okay with us. Well, not 'us' us, but with you being more involved. Willow and Tara especially. And Anya." Her head still spun from the outpouring of apologies and made her feel kinda weird, but genuinely happy. It was nice to just let someone else stress over the right thing to do, to offer her an apology. She felt like she had spent the last six years apologizing for everything and anything. Sorry I'm not a normal daughter, girlfriend, student, sister, friend, insert relationship here. Sorry that I died, sorry that I didn't come back right, sorry that I need time, sorry I can't love you... All the apologies she'd had to make, all for things she couldn't really control. She snuggled up closer to Spike. Safe with him for now. Safe with them, as well, and maybe one day, sooner than she had imagined, safe together, all of them.

Spike returned her embrace. "I like Demon Girl and your lover wiccas. The blokes, well, they've got a be protective about somethin', don't they?" They'd never fully trust him, not the men. Couldn't blame them. As long as they trusted him with Buffy and Dawn, though, that was all that mattered.

They rounded the bend to Restfield, touches becoming more intimate. "Spike. I want you." She murmured into his mouth, stumbling through the cold wet grass as they neared his place.

"You have me, Baby, you'll have me all night." He half lifted her, pulling her up his chest to kiss her harder. Her fingers were already tugging on his coat, pushing it down over his shoulder, hand digging into his back as the leather shifted.

"Is that the Slayer? Oh, God, I knew'd you'd gone good, but is that the_ Slayer_?" A pair of vamps in pressed Italian-cut suits were flanking the trees outside of Spike's crypt.

Buffy uttered a startled cry of panic, and Spike put his head back with a groan. "Bloody hell." He sighed.

"We were just gonna off you, but- Boss! You gotta see this!"

"What's going on?" Buffy demanded in a harsh hiss.

"You toddle inside, Luv, I'll deal with these two." Spike pushed her off of him with an air of assumed unconcern.

"But they saw us_ together_." She reminded him, face in the persistent, insistent look that he knew so well. Stubborn through and through.

"An' they'll be dead before they can tell anyone else about it." Spike drew his crossbow.

"You don't want to do that, Mr. Spike." A deeper voice came from the shadowy recesses west of the vampire duo facing them.

"Dammit." Spike hissed. The goons weren't bluffing, they had bought _the _Boss.

"I'm a busy man, Mr. Spike, and I've come to collect what you owe me, since you couldn't be bothered to honor our arrangement." The figure emerged, expensive suit and expensive cigar in hand, exuding wealth and power.

And his girl chose this moment to lose it. "Oh my God! It's Jaws! It's Jaws. Can I call you Bruce?" She was going into hysterical giggles, and all four of the other players in the little drama just stared at her, faces showing expressions ranging from disbelief, to rage, to exasperation. That was Spike.

"Slayer! This is not a good time to suddenly grow a sense of humor." Spike growled. "Laughing at this fellow is unwise, at any time."

"But he looks like a mascot, or maybe one of those people who works amusement parks. Does the head come off? Could you be a giant man-squirrel instead of a shark?"

"Shit." Spike breathed. She had a set of stones on her... He loved that. Unfortunately, prolly gonna get her little arm bitten clean off for that remark about the squirrel.

The shark-man snarled. "So this is the infamous Slayer. You should learn to control your woman better, Mr. Spike. Allowing her to make fun of your 'financial patron' is not such a good idea."

"Serious up." Spike turned his head to her and hissed more urgently.

"I'm not 'his woman'." Buffy ignored his advice. "He doesn't _allow_ me to do anything."

"Y'see?" He gestured ruefully.

"So you've just got a thing for vamps? 'Cause that was some pretty hefty lip lock you had going on." One of the goons smirked unpleasantly, running his tongue over his fangs, the other gave her a suggestive grin.

"That does it!" Buffy cried, offended at his innuendo. She and her lover lunged.

"Keep a civil tongue in your head, mate." Spike slammed one lackey into a tombstone and snapped his head off easily, a broken neck and two handed pull straight up. "Or I'll do it for you."

"When did you last interact with women, in the 1950's?" Buffy was trading blows with the more presumptuous of the vampires, but shouting at the shark-headed demon behind her. "Women don't 'belong' to people anymore, we're not something you own, like a house or a car. We're equal partners!" She finally had the vamp pinned and took a savage delight in staking him. "Okay, you're next!"

"Whoa, whoa, Luv!" Spike interceded. "Uh, just give us a minute."

"Excuse me, no! This guy wants you dead, therefore, I want him dead."

"Aww, Pet. That's so sweet. God, Buffy, that's so sweet." They shared a glance, moving towards one another.

"Real sweet." The remaining villain interjected. "Spike-"

"Yeah, I know, 40 Siamese, I owe you."

"Well, you _did_. But after seeing what you and your girl- beg pardon, miss, you and your little_ partner_ did to my boys, I was gonna ask you if you'd like to work off your debt instead."

"Can I kill him now? Please?" Buffy advanced, not waiting for an answer.

"Easy now, sugar, let's call the debt repaid, or let's call it a gift." The black eyes blinked under sudden threat of a sharp carved knife wielded by the irate young woman.

"Oi! I'm no welcher. I've been outta town this past week. I was mite busy when I got back, haven't been around my usual haunts, alright? But I'm back to business now, you'll get what I owe you." Spike said defensively. He reached up and seized Buffy's elbow, jerking her hand back. "But I would appreciate it if you'd keep the price at 40, and not send your boys after me."

"Done." He said with a slight inclination of his massive head and an extremely toothy leer. "You uh- you have a certain style I admire, Mr. Spike. I'm more than willing to honor your debt as a mark of my esteem."

"Thanks, but no. I'll pay what I owe. I'm not a soddin' welcher." Spike's voice was more blatantly upset at this point. He pulled Buffy back a step. "If you'll be on your way..."

"I'll do that." He waved one of his human hands.

"Wait." Buffy smiled sweetly, and stepped closer to the loan shark, shaking off Spike's protective grasp. She felt him tense. And for good reason. "He isn't a welcher." She came very close to the demon, looking up into the gray oblong head with a playful smirk and her big green eyes at their most kittenish.

"Bugger it. Here we go..." Spike breathed.

"But I kill bad guys anyway." The knife was back in her hand and slicing into the human-like chest in seconds. "Bye-bye." She whispered into the gaping jaws.

She stepped back as he fell, a single groan escaping him as the heart beat out thick, black blood. She casually wiped her blade on the grass.

"You know what you did?"

"Ruined someone's attempt at making a surf 'n' turf demon?" She smiled prettily.

He had to laugh. "No, you've killed the local head honcho of the underworld underworld."

"Yeah, well," she shrugged complacently, "we were tied for kills. And I wanted to win the bet." She turned her jade gaze up to him affectionately, laughter dancing in their depths. "Now I get to pick what we do before bed, and I say you have to watch whatever show I pick out on television."

"Remembering what happened the last time we watched television, that's not too much of a hardship, Luv." He grinned.

"There's Sandra Dee marathon on channel ten." She beamed, and laughed at his stricken expression.

"An' you say_ I'm _evil." He groaned, and followed her inside.


	8. Chapter 8

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. Includes some canonical events, but with a twist. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold. In "Desire", Spike and Buffy have caught and jailed the "Trio" and therefore many of the tragic events that occurred in the series have changed for the better._

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, iSage, Idiosyncratic Delusions, Amiradanielle, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, or other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them._

_Reviews please!_

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part VIII

"There's only one cute, annoying, little blonde I like, an' that's you." Spike grumbled, heading down the ladder, his petite lover behind him.

"Aw, c'mon. You gotta love Gidget."

"I gotta do no such thing, and next time I'm playin' for somethin' less painful, like knife wounds or holy water water pistol fights."

"Drama vamp." Buffy landed neatly beside him, a huge grin on her face.

"You like takin' the mickey out of me, Slayer."

"I know I do." She hugged him suddenly. "I just feel kinda bubbly happy. My friends were making with the supportiveness, I won a bet, I had a yummy dinner, and you look so hot when you snarl." She looked up at him, self-imposed mask off, genuinely glad. " And I'm supposed to get some special treat for my brave Spike and friend mixage."

"Mmm, been thinking of that all night. Definitely during the last hour of television torture." He pulled her close, mouth getting straight to work on her neck, and the sensitive places on her collarbone.

"My life is kinda better with you in it." She admitted softly.

"I'll make you happy, Pet. I'll help you find your pieces. I'll help you juggle. Just keep tryin'."

"I will." She grabbed the back of his head, leading him towards the bed. And he wouldn't budge. "No bed for Buffy?" She pouted playfully.

"Not at first. Unless you need me to get you all wet-again." He licked his lips.

"Sitting on your lap for an hour did that." She blushed.

"Then you get your extra special treat. Ah- you trust me with the important things, of which you are the most important, so shush, be a good little lover an' listen to me." Spike led her back to the ladder.

"What are we-"

"You'll see- just get your clothes off, Pet." He smirked, already sliding from his own.

Buffy undressed with some help from her lover, and then paused, shivering in the drafty lower region of the crypt. "Okay. I'm all with the curious. And chilly."

"I gotta do somethin' about this come winter proper, not that it's cold so much in California, but the damp, I'm -" He stopped, seeing her mouth twitch in a mixture of impatience in regret. Look at that. She's holdin' back again. She wants to tell me that we can go to her place. But she's not ready yet. "Sorry, Luv, off track." He caressed her slim buttery hips and abruptly picked her up. "How'd you like to start, Precious? Face to face? Mouth to sweet little sex? From behind?"

"Uhhh. All of the above?"

"Gotta pick one to start." He teased her nipples softly with his fingertips, mouth moving into the hollow of her shoulder and neck, still holding her aloft in one arm.

"Surprise me." She whispered.

"Thought you'd never ask." Spike grinned, and surveyed the ladder. He raised his arms and put her bum about halfway the ladder, legs draped over his shoulders. "You hold on to the sides." He instructed. She obeyed, arms reaching back to grasp the wooden supports. "See, the lovely thing about ladders is that you can do-" he swirled his tongue eagerly across her folds, and then flicked rapidly up and down over her nub, "so many things, all in one place."

"Ahhhhh." She sighed in pleasure. "Oh, God, Baby..."

"Mmmhmm. There's this." He lapped at her for several more minutes, until she spasmed back hard in his arms, cumming for him. "And now there's this-" He lowered her legs, and had her step down a few rungs, locking her legs around his waist.

"Wait, wait!" She slid one hand down to stop his penetration, inadvertently knocking her head into a slat as she lost her balance. "Ow, that was so not slick."

"Very slick. Very, very slick, all ready for me, let me in."

"No, what about you? On the ladder. At mouth level." She grinned suggestively.

"Oh." She wanted that, to do that for him. "I love you, you know that?"

"I do, actually. The amazing devotion and the putting up with me tipped me off."

"An' when you offer like that," he stroked a hand palm down, against her belly to her sweet pouting slit, "I believe you love me, too."

"Good. 'Cause I do." She used her strong back muscles to pull herself away from the ladder and sit up against his chest. "So? Spike oral loving?"

"Soon. Tonight is for you, Luv."

"I love ladders." Buffy smiled, three positions and a half dozen orgasms later.

"Stairs work as well." Spike smiled tiredly in return. "You didn't get any splinters did you?"

"Nope. And you're wood free, too?"

"I wouldn't say that." Spike rolled over beside her, spooning her exhausted form to his own, hardness still prominent between her cheeks.

"More?" She giggled. "As in, again?"

"You look a bit-" He looked, night vision easily taking in her pouting lips under the sheets, despite the darkness, "swollen. Maybe we should stop."

"But I don't want to stop." She protested, turning to him. "Because tomorrow you'll-"

"Be wherever you need me to be." He reassured. He let her push him back, watching in awe, again, with the feeling he'd always be in awe, as she eased herself down on top of him, lips light red and weeping juice, sliding down on his ivory hardness. "Oh God, Luv, so soft..."

"So hard." She whimpered.

"My beautiful Buffy. My girl." He reached his hand for her cheek.

"My Spike. My guy." She rocked herself on him harder, posting on him like an experienced horsewoman with her perfect stallion, losing herself rapidly in pleasure, overstimulated pussy responding almost instantly. "Always be my guy." She cried, leaving him speechless.

The alarm clock, she thought drowsily, collapsed on his chest. He was asleep, instantly asleep. Hah. Slayer strength wins. _Then again, he _did_ do all the work for the first four rounds_, she smiled and kissed his chest, seeing him smile in repose. She set the alarm clumsily, skating past two, then three, hovering between three and four. Her tired mind protested that she needed to be home before that, especially tonight. Because everyone knew she'd most likely been in Spike's company. And unless she had some major baddie victory to tell them about, Willow and Tara probably would imagine she'd had sex with him. Dawn was- Dawn was annoyingly smart and perceptive ever since she'd been back, and she blamed it all on Spike. Dawn probably knew they were sleeping together. Her smug smile in the basement today...

Her tired heart protested to her brain. They won't hate you for it. And you won't have to apologize for it. Not this time. Maybe another time... She fell asleep in his arms, troubled brow less furrowed than it had been all day.

"Goddamn all small, ringing objects." Spike moaned as his warm, breathing, blanket struggled out of his arms and fought for the alarm clock.

"It was your idea."

"I wanted to get rid of the early bird bitch. I like the alarm clock better, but I don't like it much." He shook his head and sat up, blinking lazily. "I'm gonna be set on human schedules soon, sleepin' half the night."

"We'll compromise. I'll start staying out a little later, you go to bed a little earlier." She said automatically as she stood and stretched. Then she turned and fixed him with a glowing grin. "Hear me? Did you hear me? I was all 'couple gal', all human-y and nice."

"I knew it was in there somewhere, Sweetheart. It was always in there." He eyed her body lustfully. "Healin' takes time."

"I know." She stood between the shower and her pile of clothes. "Do I feel like braving the ice water?" She mused aloud.

"It's getting on towards four, Luv. You wanna get a few hours of kip before Niblet gets up, you might want to head home now."

"I could just be quick."

"But I feel compelled to warm you up when I see you shiverin' in there. That will take a bit of time."

"Maybe I want you to warm me up." She gave him an arch smile. She grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him behind her. "Not that you're much warmer than the water, but some."

"You are in a powerfully good mood today. I could get used to this." He sighed.

"That was the first time in -ever- that sex was fun. I mean making love. Whatever. It's always good, so, so,_so_ good, and I'm happy when I'm with you, but that was fun, too!"

"Maybe you stopped feeling some of that prickling guilt in the back of your brain. Maybe you relaxed a bit?"

"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know." They shivered together under the freezing water, in and out hastily as possible. "I totally liked it, whatever it was. More tomorrow?"

"What about more tonight?" He watched her dry off, wishing he could just take the time to lick all the water droplets away, and realizing that would lead to another kind of wet, and another shower, and possibly create an endless circle. He could think of worse things to with his time.

"I was gonna try to take a night off and hang with the gang. 'Cause they were all with the good, no Buffy-bashing last night."

"Okay." He kept his reply short. That was a nice thing to do. But a little piece of him was being a spoiled brat and wondering why he wasn't invited. Don't push, don't push, don't push... He hated that. _I'm a vampire! I don't just push, I bloody pile-drive. Not bein' able to do it is eventually gonna make me barmy._

"I'm gonna stay home and do some housework today. The dust bunnies are turning into dust hippos. Tara's been doing everything for us lately, all the big stuff. It's not fair on her." She looked at him hesitantly, both of them now dressed, or in her case, half dressed, she had more to put on then he did.

"Big chores?"

"The- uh- the living room. There's a mountain of towels to wash. And the floors should be mopped. I need to defrost the fridge, it looks like a snow globe in there..." She sighed. "Heaven was nice. It's nothing like- major. But it's nice. It doesn't get dusty. It's always sunny- or maybe not sunny- but light. You never feel trapped. You never feel like you can't get out, 'cause you just want to stay there, being all safe and cozy."

"Never heard anyone go so deep on the reflections of housework." He made a soft circle on her back with his knuckles, pushing her gently forward, hoping his quiet sarcasm would earn him that adorable half-grin, not the nose-breaking punch.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, whatever. Being alive has some perks, but housekeeping ain't one of them." She sighed and began to climb the ladder.

"Yeah, well, the undead still gotta do a bit of grunt work unless you like livin' in squallor. Which, come to think of it, most of 'em do. Vamps got style, Luv, be grateful for that."

"Oh yes, I'm supremely grateful I met a nice guy with a two story crypt and only a _few_ coffins in his living room." She boosted herself up through the trap door and looked down at him.

"I love the jokes, Pet. If you can bash me, must mean you're feelin' better." He grinned at her, boyish charm oozing out of him, combined in a killer set with his big blue eyes.

"Oh, just get up here." She smiled more widely.

"I'm never gonna be able to look at the ladder the same now." Spike continued climbing slowly. "I'm gonna think, 'sixth rung, good for licking her little puss. Fourth rung, perfect hip to hip height.' Things like that." He smirked and she blushed.

"Yeah." She took his hand and they put on their coats, hurrying as they saw the sky lightening through the grime obscured windows of the crypt. "You don't have to walk me- I left it a little late today, it's getting bright."

"So what's a little charred skin?" He smiled. "You like your meat well done, Luv?"

"I don't want you to get hurt." She whispered solemnly. He braced her shoulders with his arm, and they walked in silence. It was fun. Last night, and it was good, it was coming along. But the truth still slapped her in the face every so often. He can never be a boyfriend. Not a normal, Saturday afternoon picnic in the park, frisbee on the beach type of a guy. You picked a guy who'll burst into flames for half of every day. For half her _life_. So not normal.

"You want me to help with the heavy stuff then? Floor moppin', an' such?"

And then he proved her wrong. Was there anything more _mundane_ than mopping floors? "Yeah. Thanks." He nodded, no big thing, not to him, not to someone who would die for her. She leaned into him with a deep sigh, feeling his shoulder embrace hers. She hated frisbee anyway...

They came in the back door, kissing once, lingeringly as he went down to the basement, and she went up to her room. It had been a good night. Things might be strange, they would never be normal, but maybe, things would start to go right.

Things went wrong. It started with the fact that they all overslept. Willow had tried the sleeping aid Tara made, and found it worked, with great success. The only problem was that she hadn't decided to try it until about 1:30, after two hours of tossing, turning, and guilt-induced thinking. Tara, lulled by Willow snuggling contentedly around her, ignored their alarm. Dawn, not being woken up by Tara, remained asleep. Buffy hadn't remembered to set her secondary alarm. Once was enough, her sleepy mind had said, and she woke up with alarm clock laying on the pillow next to her. At least she'd tried, she grinned and stretched.

"I MISSED THE BUS!" Dawn's shrill cry woke the entire household.

Spike sat up with a snort. Shouts. Dawn. He sprang up. Another shout. Buffy! He began to dash up the stairs, hand already burrowing in his duster for a weapon.

"Call Xander! He can pick you up on the way to work!" Willow's voice reached his ears.

"Here, Honey, take some money out of my bag for lunch!" Tara's voice was close to the basement door, she must be in the kitchen.

"We have all that ham left over!" Willow replied.

"I'll buy! Buffy! Get out of the bathroom, you don't have to go anywhere!"

"Sweetie! The coffee- oh,_ Sweetie_!" The sound of a splatter. Spike eased away, smiling and trying not to laugh. Sounds like everything was fine. _Fine_ might be a reach, but not in mortal danger. He began making his way back down the stairs, listening to arguing and shouting, the sound of Buffy's unusually strong heartbeat the dominant one. Eventually, he heard a car horn honking and knew Xander must have arrived. And then a knocking. He tilted his head. Buffy's heartbeat had just sky rocketed, and he could smell something he'd smelled many times before, but something completely alien in this situation. Niblet smelled the same. Then the other two. All four were sweating fear.

He tore up the stairs and eased silently into the kitchen in time to hear a voice saying, "- your child services follow-up visitation has been scheduled for three weeks now."

His blood couldn't race anymore, he couldn't feel short of breath. But at that moment, he was sure his heart was thundering like sprinter's._ No. No one takes anything more from us. From her. _He couldn't even see the woman whose voice he heard, but he knew instinctively that she was sending vibes of discontent.

"And this must be Dawn. You're a little late for school, aren't you?"

"Um, I- my ride's just here. I love you Buffy. Bye, Tara, Willow." Dawn escaped out of the front door.

"Uh-huh. Drive carefully, Xander. Have a nice day, Dawn." Buffy called with a masterful effort at cheerful confidence.

Spike slipped back into the basement, but stayed on the top step, eye pressed to the opening he left, and let his vampiric senses take over, listening intently.

"Your sister has an extremely high number of absences and tardies, Ms. Summers."

"I know, I do, its just that things have been really hard since my mother..." _Since she died. Since I died..._ "It's just a really bad time right now."

"It's been a bad time for awhile now, hasn't it, Miss Summers? I'm sorry for your loss, but that happened nearly a year ago. Life must go on." Spike seethed. Bitch didn't know what the bloody hell she was sayin', nor who she was sayin' it to. "Your sister needs to continue with her education, and her grades have fallen sharply, due to the absences and the lateness. There needs to be some improvement!"

"Sh-she is improving." Tara weighed in, hesitant voice strengthening. "She's doing really well, and her grades are coming up. H-her English paper is on the fridge, I can go get it if you want."

Mrs. Kroger ignored her offer. "And you are?" The voice was cool and appraising. Spike finally caught a glimpse of the woman, as they moved out of the doorway and into the dining room. A short, middle-aged cow if there ever was one. Who was she to come in here and mess up his girls' lives? He curbed his rage, it impacted hIs ability to listen and think carefully. Hell, thinking carefully was never his strong suit where the Summers women were concerned.

"I'm Tara."

"I'm Willow. We're friends of Buffy's."

"You dropped in for a visit?"

"We-" Hesitation muted Willow's response.

"They live here." Buffy looked nervously away. Was that okay? Was there a rule about living with your friends? With your gay friends? With your gay, witch, magic- practicing friends, oh God...

"There's no mention of anyone else living here with you." The woman scribbled something on her clipboard.

"That's not a problem, is it?" She stammered.

"No, no, but you should have mentioned it on your form."

"I didn't realize that, I'm sorry." Buffy cursed herself. She'd received notifications and forms to fill out weeks ago. _Weeks ago,_ when her body was back with the living, but her soul, and apparently her brain, were curled up inside, miserable and hiding. Not paying attention.

"We need to go to class." Tara bit her lip. "Unless you'd like us to stay, Mrs. Kroger?"

"Not at this time." She replied, not even glancing up.

"We'll be home in time to make a healthy, yummy dinner for growing teenagers!" Willow enthused, eyes locked on the frowning social worker.

"Thanks, Will." Buffy nodded.

"Let's make the tour of the house first, Ms. Summers. We'll start upstairs, if that's okay?"

"Oh, yes, fine." Buffy brazened it out. Why me? _Why do you do this to me?_, she asked the God she wasn't sure ever listened to her. Everyone had been running late. Beds wouldn't be made, magic apparatus was just left out in the open in Willow and Tara's room. The kitchen was clean at least- except for the bag of ground up sleepy weed Tara made last night, and the magic books mixed in with the cookbooks. She'd been going to take care of it, she'd said so, as soon as she got up, the floors, the laundry piling up- oh God! Spike was in the basement!

Spike slipped out into the kitchen, torn between leaving and finding a more secure place to hide. Then he saw some concerning things and went into a leather-clad version of Mary Poppins. Goddamn it, you couldn't just leave all this stuff out, mortar an' pestle, some sorta herbal blend that looked like pot to the untrained eye, huge spell books left lyin' open. He hurriedly concealed everything, wiped down the counter, cleaned up remains of spilled coffee, shoved the ham back in the fridge, bread back in the bag. Bloody hell! A bottle of Scotch just sitting on the coffee table, why? He groaned and grabbed, shoving it back in the back of the pantry.

"The house is obviously in need of some minor upkeep, but there's no reason to remove your sister from your care because of that." A voice was drifting down the stairs.

"Remove? R-remove her? Is that something you're considering?" Buffy's chest tightened, and she felt like she was dying inside. And this time she didn't want to go. From his new hiding spot in the hallway closet, Spike began to die again, hearing the pain in her voice. The soul they said he didn't have, that he knew he wasn't _supposed_ to have, ached painfully. Can't take her away. Say you won't take her away. I won't_ let _you take her away.

"Not if you can answer some questions about your employment and financial status." The woman walked into the living room, gazed around, and took a seat. Buffy sat nervously across from her in an armchair, hands nervously clasped on her knees.

Buffy floundered. "We- we have some money in the bank, I can show you the statements."

"That would be good, Ms. Summers, but sustaining your income, your current job, that's what we need to know about. If you can provide for her. My interest is in Dawn's welfare. And the stability of her home life, something I'm just not convinced that an unemployed young woman like yourself can provide."

"I- I um- I'm going to be working at the Double Meat Palace or one of the restaurants in town." That wasn't a lie. She would be, she would have to be, she didn't have any other options if she needed a job like, yesterday. She just hadn't officially been hired yet.

"I need to know which one specifically, Ms. Summers. I would also like to know your hourly wage, to see if it covers the expenses you'll incur in supporting your sister and maintaining a household."

"I haven't decided which offer I'm going to take yet." Buffy told another half-truth. She wasn't lying. She hadn't decided on an offer, because she didn't know where any offers would be coming from.

"When will you know? And, also Ms. Summers, on this form, under 'guardian's highest level of education' you filled in 'some college'. You're a very young woman to be saddled with raising a teenage girl. Are you planning to continue your education? Can you work, afford and attend school, _and_ take care of 15 year old girl?" Mrs. Kroger gave her a stern glare, a pitying shake of the head. These youngsters. They thought they coulddo it all.

_ I don't know, I don't know, I don't _know_! Stop asking me, let me go, away from this, from all of this!_ Buffy's mind screamed. On the outside, she said in a flat, emotionless voice, "I don't know."

"And that, Ms. Summers, is why I'm very concerned." More scribbling on the clipboard.

No, no, no, you stupid bint. Spike resisted the urge to put his fist through the door. She's got a future. She's got it all sewn up, it's the bag, literally, almost. In my pocket, acceptance letter, grant, full ride, work-study with enough to keep the house going- if I chip in, and the wiccas chip in. It's all there. He looked down in frustration. It's all right _here_. His eyes closed, and an entire plan formed in his head in a split second. If it failed, she was gonna kick his ass straight out into daylight. If it succeeded, and she ever cottoned onto his role in it, she might do the same. But you've gotta try, don't you mate? 'Cause the alternative is watching her fall apart, an' them trying to take Bit. We can't have that, now can we?

Buffy let out a startled gasp as a door slammed. Mrs. Kroger dropped her pen with a jerk of her head. "Spike!" Buffy leaped to her feet. Of all the times he could possibly pick to come out and make with the "I'm a part of her life" stuff, now was the worse. Mr. Big and Bad, with my strap up boots and my slicked bleach hair, Mr. I-Have-to-Look-Like-A-Killer. "Spike!"

"You must be the nice woman from social services." Spike tried to smile, but it came out as a cold sneer. He was bad at pretending to like people who hurt his loved ones, lives on the line or not.

"Do you live here too?" She looked nervously between Buffy, her face a mask of shock, and Spike, the strange leer on his face.

"No!" Buffy denied quickly. "He-he just stopped in to-" What would sound plausible?

"Pick up something I left over here at dinner last night." He lied easily.

"This is your boyfriend, I take it?"

"Well- I-"

"We prefer the term 'significant other'." Spike smiled at his freaking out lover, who merely gave him a deer in the headlights stare. He jerked his head towards the old bag watching them and she shook herself back into survival mode.

"Yes. Yes, we do, _Honey_, so why don't you go, get what it is you left, and _leave_. So this nice woman and I can talk about how I'm going to balance my work schedule so that I can take care of _Dawn_." She took his elbow and tugged.

"Buffy's a great mum to her little sis." Spike said defensively.

"I'm sure." Mrs. Kroger nodded with lips pressed together in a false smile of courtesy.

"Spike, let's go." Buffy raised her eyebrows at him pleadingly.

"Right, mustn't keep you. Oh, I bumped into the mailman out there, Luv, he gave me all these for you." Spike handed her the envelopes. "Looks like you're headed back to school, thick envelopes always mean you've been accepted, yeah?"

Buffy took the envelopes with a nervous look back to the social worker. "Oh, but, I won't be going. Not now. I mean, I'm Dawn's guardian. I've got to go to work, maintain a stable home with a steady income. I'm not spending money on myself, going to college." She gave a short anxious laugh.

"You should open them, Buffy, maybe you got financial aid. Maybe you got that work-study you applied for." He pushed the envelopes into her hand with more subtle insistence. But Buffy remained unmoving. _Great. She's panicking. Doesn't blink in the face of the Hellbitch, but let some pen-pusher ask her anything and she's gone. _" 'Scuse us." He dragged Buffy into the dining room. "Open the soddin' letters."

"It's not going to help, Spike!" She hissed, green eyes suddenly blinking back tears. "She-she said I'm not a good provider, and I can't handle all these things, and I-"

"Open the letters first, panic second." He slid his finger roughly down the three envelopes in quick succession, tearing the flaps free.

"I'm going to go check out the kitchen, Ms. Summers." Mrs. Kroger pushed past them, eyeing them speculatively.

"Oh! Well, there's some stuff left out from last night's dinner, let me just-" Buffy was cut off by Spike's loud and cheerful,

"Oh, go on Mrs. Kroger. My Buffy's a perfectionist in the kitchen. I'm sure it's tidy enough."

"Spike! There was all kinds of stuff left out from Tara making a sleeping potion for Willow and me!"

"I know, I put it away." Spike gave up, pulled the letters from her hand, and took out the contents of the first one. "Read."

"I got in. I got in!" Buffy scanned the letter and the beamed. He made to pull her into his arms, but stopped, as her face took on its former gravity. "But that doesn't mean anything. Double Meat Palace Short Order Microwaving School is the only place I'll go for higher education right now." She began to crumple the letter, but Spike covered her hand with his own.

"I'll check the basement." The social worker seemed satisfied with the kitchen.

"Oh. Okay! We just had all the plumping replaced and we made some other home improvements." Buffy managed to squeak. "You didn't leave any crossbows or dead demon things down there today, did you? She whispered to Spike.

"Not a thing, Luv." He kissed her tousled hair and gave her a reassuring smile. "You don't have to work at that place, Buffy. Any place but that place, okay?"

"It won't be so bad."

"That demon that I killed the other night? Worm with an attitude? Lived in the back. Liked to eat the employees. You don't work there."

"But you killed it." She said after looking horrified for a few seconds.

"But, Luv, no one even noticed it was there. That place churns people up and spits 'em out, they don't even know if they're gettin' eaten alive in the back lot and couldn't even tell the stench of that thing next to the dumpster. Work someplace else."

"I'll do whatever I have to do." She said, voice tinged with a calm resignation to her fate. "I can't let them take Dawn. I'm finally here again. _Here_, here. They can't take her away."

"I know, Pet. I won't let 'em." He gave way to a feral growl and Buffy had to smile. It was nice to have some muscle on your side in a crisis.

She felt him pull the crumpled acceptance letter away and watched one pale palm pat it smooth it on the table. As if noticing the other letters in her hand for the first time, she peeked inside the less bulky envelopes. Financial Aid. "Financial Aid. Willow filled out most of the forms for me, she did our taxes last year, her and Anya." She scanned the letter, her eyes becoming wider and wider, mouth opening a fraction at a time. "Spike! Look, I got a grant! A memorial grant! The Larry Blaisdell Memorial Scholarship- oh my God, Spike, that's so sad!"

"Huh?" He hadn't expected that last bit.

"Larry! I went to high school with him. He died. On graduation day." She looked up sorrowfully. " Another slayerage failure."

"No! It soddin' is not a failure! You kept the rest of that class alive. Believe me, Precious- I should know." He kissed her forehead and eased the paper away. "Is it- a big scholarship?"

"I don't know. But some is better than none. Not that I can use it now."

The clunking of high heels on the stairs alerted them to the return of their unwelcome guest. " Ms. Summers. The house seems to be in a reasonable order, all utilities working, adequate space and living conditions. I will need to see your bank statements that you mentioned and I need to know your employment plans. Please."

"I'll get the statements." Buffy moved like she was underwater. My plans? My plans were to rest peacefully, knowing that my job was done. I don't know what to do with my life. Are you kidding me? How do you know what to do with your life after it's _ended_? There's no more thinking about that. There's no college up there. There's no scholarship, or guardianship, and they _so_ don't have minimum wage. And there are no poking, prying social workers who would never believe or accept the truth if you could ever even dare to tell them it.

She rummaged around her purse, the third and final envelope still in her hand. "Here are the statements. My sister's account and mine. The money in Dawn's is hers, but you can see we've got a college fund started for her."

"That was prudent of you." Mrs. Kroger admitted grudgingly. She took the statements, compared the figures to a sheet on her clipboard and began nodding slowly.

Open the goddamn last letter, Spike cried inside his head. She, and only she, would do this now. The girl who couldn't wait to see whatever things she shouldn't see, was absolutely uninterested in the one final document that would give them some financial stability. "Where's the last letter from, Buffy?"

"Huh? Oh. Financial aid again. Maybe they gave me_ two_ scholarships that I won't be using." She muttered this last under her breath, shuffling through the contents, until she seemed to find something that interested her. "Oh. Spike, look at these!" He moved behind her eagerly, hands circling her waist, then rapidly returning to his sides, as he stared over her shoulder at things he already knew the letter would say.

"Ms. Summers. Could we please conclude this interview? Your plans?"

"Yes. My plans." Buffy moved to the armchair, radiating confidence, and followed by a gloating Spike. "We have enough money to live on for several months. My friends, Willow and Tara, who you met, also help pay for utilities and groceries. They help me take care of Dawn, they help her with her homework, they help with the cooking, because, seriously, I suck at cooking, but that's okay. Because you don't need to be a good cook to keep someone fed, do you?"

"Um, no, I suppose not." Startled by the obvious change in her interviewee, Mrs. Kroger put down her pen.

"And then there's Spike. He's- he's like a brother to Dawn." She cast an affectionate look over her shoulder, smiling inside at Spike's stunned, but pleased expression. "He'll be helping take care of her, too. So someone will always be there for Dawn. Around my work and school schedule."

"That's very admirable, Ms. Summers, but, I need numbers, locations." She smiled pityingly, her pen beginning to move on the page again.

"Why don't you let the girl talk?" Spike growled softly, and the pen clattered to the floor for the second time during the visitation.

"I don't know my school schedule, yet, but I know where I'm going, and how I'm paying for it. Starting in January, I've got a full ride from UC Sunny D." She triumphantly held out the paper in her hands. " Plus, I'll be working four hours a day, four days a week, at the college bookstore. Since I don't have to pay for college for myself, and since I have friends who help me with other living expenses, this should keep us going just fine."

"I see." Kroger scanned the paper. "But should your friends move out?"

"Then I step in." Spike's growl was practically reverberating the floorboards at this point. "I'm self-employed, in case you wanna know. But what I've got, belongs to them as much as to me."

"Very admirable." She croaked hoarsely. She became brisk in the face of Buffy's confidence, plus the reassuring information, and more than a little bit because of Spike's imposing presence as he leaned heavily against the back of Buffy's seat. "You'll need to fill out all the forms again, and re-submit, due to the - discrepancies." She began a glare, and hastily ended it, meeting hard blue and green eyes. "We'll also be looking at Dawn's attendance record and grades. We'll schedule a follow-up in February, after you've started this new 'routine'."

"I'd appreciate if you didn't_ italicize_ the word routine." Spike snarled. "My girl worked damn hard to get to this point, to take care of her little sis, an' yeah, we all help, but she's the one who keeps all the balls in the air, bein' like a mum, goin' to work, helpin' her friends, an' now she's got herself a full scholarship an' she's puttin' herself through school."

"I've had good friends." Buffy acknowledged. _They _kept the place going. Not me. And he knows it. But he also knows I tried, before... . I might just be starting to try again, now. But he just- he just believes in me. She shot him a sudden grateful smile. "I have a really good boyfriend." Her heart gave a lurch, painfully scraping her throat as she uttered the words she swore she would never say. To cover her rising panic, she cleared her throat, trying to shake her heart back down to her chest where it belonged, and asked "So. Can you give me those papers?"

Spike sat heavily on the couch once it was vacated by the turd in human form. He heard Buffy talking, and the woman replying, but it was like hearing someone whispering at you as you stood beside a rushing train, unintelligible and muffled. Boyfriend? Is that what I am? I don't 'specially like the term, so juvenile, all sodas and holdin' hands. I'd like something permanent, she's my world, her an' Niblet. But bloody hell, that term was a big deal around here. 'Caused screaming fits and nervous breakdowns and the like._ Boyfriend._ That's as permanent as she's ever gotten in her life. The door shut and he jarred back to life. "That went well." He said with heavy sarcasm.

Buffy collapsed with a groan, landing beside him. "My knees are shaking. I'm gonna barf. Oh my God, Spike- I was so scared."

"I know. Me, too, Luv. That's why I came in."

"I'm glad you did." She legitimately was. "Although, you were kinda scary at the end."

"Can't stand interferin' busy bodies like that. Protect the people that need protectin', not kids with a whole soddin' SWAT team lookin' after them." His hand shook as he pulled out a cigarette. "I stashed the Scotch someplace, I'm havin' a drink. Alright with you?"

"They left the Scotch out? We_ have_ Scotch?"

"Rupes keeps a bottle here. Doesn't believe in any other form of self medicatin'." Spike grinned slightly.

"They just leave it lying around? God! And you cleaned up the magic spooky stuff in the kitchen, huh?"

"Yeah, well, I heard you an' Bit's hearts poundin' like bass drums and I thought you could use a hand." He shrugged casually, and took his coat off. He inhaled deeply, letting the hot smoke caress and soothe his nerves.

"You really are a good-", she blushed, "you know. That thing I said."

"You know you can call me that. In private." He poured a large tumbler of the amber spirit and returned to her side. "Emphasis on 'private', Luv."

"I meant it. It's just kind of an unlucky term for me."

"We make our own luck." He moved to take her hand, and found it was full of social services forms. "We'd do less paperwork if we wanted to buy a dozen shotguns!"

"Well, _you _would. You'd just steal them." Buffy laughed tiredly.

"Yeah, I'm a mean evil creature, that's what I do."

"You're still a really great guy. My guy."

An' we're back to that. But I know she thinks it. "My girl." He pulled her into his arms as she put the papers on the coffee table.

"Oh, God." She sighed deeply. "I forgot she was coming. I filled all the paperwork out wrong... It's a miracle I even got into college, I guess that's 'cause Willow helped with that." She looked up at him lovingly. "I was kinda freaked when you just popped out of nowhere, but when you had the letters-"

"Mmmhmm." Spike's body tensed. Green eyes were flickering. Wheels turning.

"The mailman didn't come. You weren't outside."

"On the hall table." He said with his best bluff and poker face. But she'd started playin' poker with him. Bugger.

She sat up and pushed off hard, leaving his side abruptly. "Buffy! Luv, listen-" he followed her.

"No stamps. No stamps, Spike!" She found the envelopes and shook them under his nose, making him recoil a step.

"I knew I forgot something." He sighed, before he found his back shoved into the wall.

"I- How could you? Why would you? Where did you get these?" She asked in a trembling voice, eyes blinking back angry, confused tears.

"You applied. You earned 'em." He rasped, moving her hand from his throat with difficulty.

"Don't like to me! I trusted you!" She relaxed her grip, looking horrified with herself. "I was letting myself- I really loved you."

"Loved? Past tense?" Spike felt like a thousand tasers were hitting him at once, whole body aching. No, no, _no_, not like this! Not now! "Listen to me!"

"I'm listening. Explain it. What did you do? When you told me you could get papers, I didn't think you'd get them for_ me_. Phonies. Fakes. What the hell do you think is going to happen when I show up there?" She threw her hands up and glared at him.

"Look at the papers. Look at 'em, they're not phonies, they're legit, I swear on Dawn's head. You've got everything you applied for, an' nothing false about them." He pleaded with her to believe him. Without a word, she made her way through the papers, every one, looking at them with everything but a magnifying glass to make sure they were authentic.

It wasn't the longest five minutes of his life, but it was some of the most agonizing. Worse than many near-death battles, worse than many times he'd been on the lam, or waiting for a captor to face him. But this- Buffy was riding on this. And he didn't know why he hadn't thought this all the way through before. _Because she's your soddin' weak spot, her an' Bit. You never think it all the way through, you think they need you, an' you act._

"Explain." She didn't look at him. God, does it matter? Does this matter, if he finagled something? He _does_ that. He lies, he steals. He never hurts a person, and he did it 'cause he loves you. This got the social worker off your back, didn't it? If it's a choice between him "fixing" something and you losing Dawn, what would you rather have?

"I went to see the Dean of Admissions." Spike began, also not looking at her, looking at his hands, willing his voice to remain steady. "I jus' wanted to make sure your papers were in order, comin' along. I-I wanted to just check, and then I was gonna go see the money people. Ever since I killed the nasty in back of the burger place, I knew you couldn't work there. I didn't want you to. An' yeah, I know, I don't have a say in your life. But I was scared for you, knew you had a lot to deal with, didn't need to kill things at your day job besides slayin'. An' that place- Christ, Luv, they don't pay enough to keep one person alive, let alone two."

"So- you went to the college, to make sure-what exactly?" She let herself take a quick look at him. He looked forlorn and as miserable as she'd ever seen him. Defeated. "Spike?"

"Yeah?" He slowly met her eyes.

"What'd you tell me? 'You and me, always bloody but unbowed', right?"

"You've always been able to defeat me. My bloody weak spot. You and the Bit."

"Just finish explaining." She said softly.

Well, at least she had calmed down a little. And he wasn't sure what to make of her comment. He wasn't thinking clearly, talking through a haze of heartache, that when he finished, she'd tell him to go, and everything he thought he'd found would be gone. "I was jus' gonna check, see? Then I found out they rejected your application."

The anger was back. "You made them take me? You _made_ them take me? What'd you do, beat them up? _Threaten_ to beat them up?" She demanded.

Yeah, but I'm not gonna tell _you_ that. Not for years. If you're still speaking to me in years... "I asked why they didn't take you. You wanna know why?"

"Because I'm not very good at academic stuff. Can't kill a book report or a math problem." She kicked the sofa with a pout.

"Your SATs say otherwise. Say you're brilliant. Even your grades, with all you had goin' on, were decent. And, as for the madness you had to deal with, I'm partially responsible for it. Lets not forget to blame me when it's fair." He pointed out.

"You're asking me to blame you?"

"I'm love's bitch, Sweetie, so yes, I'm askin' you to blame me." He almost laughed, and she almost smiled. The heartache lessened slightly, and he remembered the rage he'd felt at the dean's hardheaded, unjust attitude. "The Dean, first off, he's a wanker, an' he gives free ins to girls who give him 'free ins', if you know what I mean."

"Oh. Ewwww!" Buffy crossed her legs protectively. If her choices were letting Spike scare someone into helping her application along versus that, she'd totally pick the scariness.

"Exactly. He said you dropped classes. I said your mum died. He said you dropped out of last semester. I said your sister was kidnapped. Couldn't tell him you- you weren't here anymore." He took her hand, and she didn't pull it away. "The he said, an' this is where I flippin' lost it, Luv, he said you upset Maggie Walsh."

"What?" Buffy screeched. "Are you serious? She tried to kill me! She made a monster that went on a killing spree! They seriously said that?"

"Dead serious."

"So... you convinced him I was worth readmitting?"

"Yes. In my own special way." He smirked in spite of the situation, recalling the scum bag's abrupt "attitude adjustment". "Then I told him he had better help out financially. And with work-study. I didn't tell him to do as much as he did. I even said I understood if they could only do a bit, but-" he preened, "I can be very convincin' if I'm sufficiently motivated."

"I just bet you can." She muttered. That was wrong. So wrong. "Spike... You- you're a-a big poop head!"

He blinked. "Prob'ly." Not the most sophisticated insult, but better than a sharp and pointy death.

"You can't do that! You can't scare me like that, make me think you're fixing my life, like I can't handle it!"

"Can you handle it? Handle every single soddin' thing they ask you to do down here?" He asked harshly.

"Yes." She took a deep breath. "But it-"

"_Kills_ you." He whispered. "You deserve to live, an' you deserve a bit of help. I was only trying to help you, Luv. Because I_ do_ love you." He peered at her intently. "Be mad all you want, jus' don't think I was tryin' to hurt you, or that I don't love you." Don't stop loving me...

When she stood in front of him, neither one knew what to expect. Buffy's anger and pride warred with her need to have someone help her get through this life, have someone to trust and love. _Can you trust him?_ I can. With the important stuff. With my heart. He did this all wrong, but he did it to help me...

_You've done a good thing for her. Remember that. No matter what she does next, you did a good thing for her an' Dawn._ Spike tensed, and started to rise from the seat, prepared for the confrontation to go to the next level.

Buffy hugged him hard."Thank you." He let out a long shaking breath and hugged her back, every bit as tightly. "You got me a piece of normal. I don't care how you did it." Then she peered up at him with a wincing look of anxiety on her face, "Is anyone hurt?" "NO! Maybe a bit wet in the trousers, but aside from that, fine." He smiled cockily.

"Then you did a good thing, in a bad way." She shook her head and rolled her eyes to his.

"That's me Luv. Good to you. Good guy, in a bad guy costume. Okay?"

"Okay."

He let out a shuddering laugh and rocked her from foot to foot as he held her close. "God, you scared me. But we survived the first fight, huh?"

"First fight?" Buffy scoffed. "Oh, please! Do I have to remind you of the eighty different battles we've had?"

"The first fight when you loved me, too." He explained.

"Oh. Then yeah. we survived."

"Lets try not to do that again, Luv. Never felt so bad, not in- not in a few months anyway." He squeezed her once more, not wanting to let her go, but deciding he needed to let her breathe.

She agreed. "Me, too. Guess you're the real deal now." She looked at him shyly. "Boyfriend."

"My girl. Always my girl." He kissed her hungrily, and she returned it, just as enthusiastically. Slowly they slid back to the couch, her straddling his lap.

"Love you." His hands were under her shirt, kneading the curve of her lower back.

"Love you." Her hands were under his shirt, nails scraping down each defined muscle. They reached his belt and they both stopped, wide eyed, And started kissing again. "Mmph, mmph, Spike, stop." She laughed into his mouth as they fell onto the floor when he pushed his hips off the sofa.

"Do I have to?" He whispered, jutting his hardness into her. "I'm the boyfriend, aren't I allowed?"

"Yes, I mean, no!" She tried to ignore the fact that his fingers had found their way into her soft black cotton pants and were seeking a way to get further down.

"I won't tell, if you won't. Not about the boyfriend thing, either."

"You're so- oooh God, so good to me." His slender middle finger nudged apart her lips.

"I'd be a hell of a lot better if you'd stop wearing knickers when I'm around." He teased. "An' skirts."

"I can't patrol in skirts." He was devious, distracting her from the fact that he was pushing her onto the hardwood floor off the living room carpet, and that he was unzipped.

"This isn't patrol. Although you can fight this 'big bad' all you want." He jutted himself into her hand.

"B-but the whole- no sex in this house thing, and I got all freaked out last time, and was all bitch cleaning lady." She tried, desperately, to remind herself, and her pounding heart, why this was bad.

"I know. But I figure, you said you gotta mop the floors today anyway... so, why not mess it up a bit first?" He smirked and nuzzled her cheek with his lips. "Besides. Make-up sex is the best. An' this is make-up sex, plus celebration sex, plus you called me your boyfriend for the first time sex."

"I have all that paperwork to do, plus the cleaning."

"I'll help." He offered quickly.

"Make-up sex is that good?"

"Ever had it?"

"No."

"Well, this is the only time, I hope to God, that we'll ever get it. Gonna pass it up?"

"What if it makes me wanna fight with you more?" She teased. "So I can get more of it?"

"As long as we're not endin' things-"

"No! Not big fights. Little, dumb fights with the goal of making make-up sex happen." She slid her pants past her hips.

"Bring it on, Baby." He moaned, and she arched into him.


	9. Chapter 9

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. Includes some canonical events, but with a twist. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold. In "Desire", Spike and Buffy have caught and jailed the "Trio" and therefore many of the tragic events that occurred in the series have changed for the better._

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, iSage, Idiosyncratic Delusions, Amiradanielle, Msnycegirl0820, somethinginthewayful, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, or other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. This chapter features _Smooth _by the fabulous Santana._

_Reviews please!_

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part IX

"The house looks better than this morning. Everyone is going to be so proud of me. Us." Buffy blushingly corrected. Spike leaned on the mop handle and looked at her. "What?" She asked innocently.

"I'm gettin' credit for this bit of Good Samaritanism, am I?"

"I wouldn't call it _that,_ but I'm saying you helped." She gave him a mildly irritated glance. "You were the one who- who made the floor really need to get mopped. With all the- scuffing." She stammered and blushed.

"I prefer to think of it as 'polishing'." He smiled broadly. He moved over closer for a kiss, feeling peaceful in a way he had long, long ago forgotten. Loved. Small, simple tasks accomplished side by side with someone you loved. At ease. "I should go soon, yeah? So you can hang with the gang, as you called it?" He teased his lips to hers a few times, wishing that the mere taste of her, the mere sight of her, didn't give him such a pounding urge to make love again.

"Yeah, probably." She looked up at him regretfully. "Before anyone else gets-" The front door slammed loudly. "-home." She sighed and they quickly stepped apart.

"Oh, good! You're here. I've been so worried, and I-I didn't have any change, and then when I _got_ change the stupid pay phone at the library was broken!" Willow rambled at top speed, big, concerned eyes on Buffy. "Oh. Hi, Spike." She nodded to him and gave him a quick wave before focusing on Buffy again.

_I'm a regular fixture around here. Was. All during the summer. Now I'm back again. As I should be. _Spike returned the nod and smiled. "I'll head out, just stopped to- pick up something I left here last night."

"Don't go." Willow said, surprising Buffy. "Dawn's gonna want to see you, she's probably been thinking about it all day."

_ How did they know we had sex? Would that really worry Dawn all day? Oh, God, bad thought, bad thought... Why would Willow need to _call _me, wouldn't she just- _

"Buffy?"

"Huh?" Buffy blinked, startled back to focusing on her freaking friend.

"The social worker! Wh-what did they decide?" Willow bit her lip and wrung her hands. She knew it wasn't right, but the first thing she wanted to do was find the pushy little bureaucrat and erase her memory, make her come back, and give her the best damn impression of a perfect household ever.

"Oh. _Oh!_" Buffy's eyes cleared as she understood. Geez, self guilt trip much? She darted a glance at Spike, who tried not to look amused. "Oh, Will! I got into UCSD!"

"Oh, Buffy! Buffy, that's _awesome_!" Willow hugged her and whooped. "Oh, my God, we need to sit down and start scheduling your classes!" Willow pulled her to the couch. "You're undeclared right? So we can- wait, why are you telling me now? Not that I'm not thrilled, because, hey, I am the Queen of the Nerd-Girls, but I was talking about the social worker." Willow bit her lip again. Buffy was getting better. She'd care, wouldn't she, if they were trying to take Dawn?_ Of course she would, calm down, hear her out..._

"Oh, it all fits. See, I got a grant to go to school, a full grant, and a work-study. So I can go to school, _and_ afford to keep the house running. Well, not running, maybe, but walking briskly."

"Don't worry about the house- wow. The house looks_ really_ good." Willow looked around appreciatively. "But don't worry about the house, we'll help. We'll all help, the main thing is- Dawnie stays right?"

"Yes. For now. They're coming back in February to see if- if I'm still good enough." She closed her eyes for a minute. It was going to be okay. Calm down. _But I didn't ask for this job! I love Dawn, but- but I'm not a mom, I can't do this right..._

"Do us a favor, Red?" Spike broke the tense silence following Buffy's announcement that there would be a return visit. "Can you an' Tara not leave the spell books an' herbals lyin' around the kitchen?"

"Oh, God! The sleeping stuff!"

"Spike-" I can't say he was here, can I? Not at that hour... "Spike's right. It's not a good idea. I, um, she didn't see it." That was true. "Not when we know she's coming, anyway. I filled the forms out wrong last time, and I wasn't really 'back on earth girl' when I did it. I forgot she was coming. Now we'll know. We'll have the house perfect and no weird magical pieces lying around." Buffy smiled with a sigh.

"Okay. Good plan." Willow looked around the house again. "You spent the day cleaning, huh?"

"Yeah. And doing some paperwork from the social services office."

"Wow. Look at this floor!" Willow stood and walked over to the coatrack, putting her jacket away.

"The floor?" Buffy rose from the couch as though catapulted.

"The floor?" Spike asked with a panicked note in his voice, eyes narrowing. _Bloody hell, it would figure, wouldn't it? One time she lets me get close here, have some of the hottest, most desperate, well, sod it, _make up sex_, an' the witch is gonna notice somethin'._

"It's so shiny! I can see my face in it." Willow beamed. "Whatever you did to it totally worked!"

"Bit of polishin'." Spike smirked, relaxing instantly. Buffy ignored his wink, but pinkness began to flood her neck and face.

"Oh, you helped polish the floors? And mopped them?" Willow looked pleasantly surprised. "That's nice, Spike."

"He was a big help. A really big help. With the paperwork an-and the-floor." Buffy gave him a half smile, and the clandestine (although not as clandestine as they supposed) couple relaxed.

"Willow?" Tara's voice sounded out of breath and frantic. The three figures in the hallway turned to see the pale witch entering the house at a jog. "Willow- oh, Buffy, you're here, good. What did they say?" She clasped the petite blonde's hands.

"Dawn's staying. It's fine. It's all fine."

"And- and oh my gosh, so much good news! Buffy's going back to school! She got a grant!" Willow found her inordinately excited enthusiasm about Buffy's college career again.

"That's wonderful!" Tara shared her girlfriend's enthusiasm.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is. It's just so- normal." Buffy realized slowly. A hesitant smile crossed her face until it stretched ear to ear. "I'm going back to school! I have a job! A job I can probably do without getting killed."

"This is completely cause for celebration!" Tara hugged her friend.

"We have ice cream we never got to eat!" Willow jumped to action and headed for the kitchen.

"This isn't rocky road good news, this is big dinner out news!" Tara protested.

"I'm gonna go, okay, ladies? I know Bit'll be worried an' all, but you'll soothe her down. An' I'll swing by later if you want me to, Buffy."

"Wait." Tara gave Willow a significant look. Willow's eyes widened and she gave a shake of her head. Tara raised her eyebrows and gave her a more pointed look.

"Um. Umm. We should all go out to celebrate. Really."

Tara sighed. "We should, tonight yes. All of us, Dawnie and Buffy especially.

B-but then, another night, w-we could go out and celebrate th-that Buffy got a grant and is going back to school." Taking a deep breath and ignoring Willow's high pitch whimper of nervousness, she concluded, "J-just the four of us."

Spike had no idea Red could move so fast. She dragged Tara backwards into the kitchen with lightening speed, and Buffy followed them. "Well, I think it sounds like a good plan." He tossed out, craning his head, eyebrows raised, as they disappeared from view.

"We'll be right back." Willow poked her head around the doorway with a fixed smile.

"I'm gonna have a smoke. Oh, an' it's time for _Passions_. Anyone mind if I-?"

"No!" All three women chorused, different levels of stress in their voices.

"Tara!" Willow hissed. "You shouldn't have! Not in front of him."

"Why? Is there something wrong with asking another couple to come out to celebrate?" Tara crossed her arms, gentle sternness in her body language, making Willow relent slowly.

"What are you guys talking about?" Buffy hissed, eyes ricocheting between the lovers.

"Saturday night, we could all go to dinner. Dawn could hang at the store. Then we'd pick her up on the way back home." Willow offered, sounding more at ease than she felt. She tried to remember the conversation she'd had with Tara. It's time to grow up. Time to let people heal, grow, fall in love. Even if it is with a really weird, mildly evil guy. He's still... a nice guy. And he cleans! I mean, hey, if you gotta have evil, have loving, helpful evil. "What do you think?" She asked hesitantly.

Buffy didn't know if you could actually have your brain grind to a halt, but if so, that's what was happening to her. She had a zillion thoughts, many of them favorable, but all that came out was a shocked and slightly belligerent, "Spike and I do not do normal stuff like go out to dinner!" From the living room, _Passions _increased in volume, and she realized Spike could hear every word she was saying. I'm a terrible girlfriend. Oh my God. Oh. My. God. I'm a_ girlfriend_. Again. That _cannot_ be good. I'm a terrible girlfriend, it isn't even the undead, soulless dude watching soaps that has "couple issues", it's _me!_

"Well, maybe you should, Buffy. You were happy to be doing something normal, like school, and work. If you want normal, shouldn't you attempt it?" Tara's voice became slightly impassioned.

Buffy sighed. She'd rarely heard Tara sound so strongly opinionated. And that should have warned her right then, that this must be very important, must have been something she had considered very deeply. "It's not that easy." It wasn't! Loving a "good" vampire was one thing. Loving _Spike_ was another. Even though they said they supported her hanging out with him- did they understand that dinner out was _dating_ him? Did dating get the same kind of support as simply enjoying his company on patrols and slaying-related disasters?

"I'm sorry, it's just-you wouldn't understand." She sighed.

Willow's eyes went from sweetly sympathetic to flashing in an instant. "Oh, no, we couldn't possibly understand. No Buffy, because being lesbian witches is _very_ accepted, always has been." Her voice was strident and hurt.

Buffy looked down, ashamed. Duh. Wrong thing to say again. I'm so not a good friend. I'm not a good girlfriend. I'm not a good guardian. They brought me back to the world of my screwed up-ness. She met Willow's angry eyes and Tara's hurt ones. I don't want to deal with your emotions, God, I can barely deal my own! You're hurt, you're mad, I'm mad at me for loving him, too. It hurts to love someone at all. She slowly turned her gaze back to the countertop, saying nothing.

Tara cleared her throat quietly. "I don't, I mean, _we_ don't mean to push you and Spike along if it isn't something you want to do. I just thought that you had feelings for him."

So they get that. They get that. But, really, they're not just trying to keep me happy so I'll scrape along another day in this world? She stared at them unflinchingly "You think I have feelings for him, so you want us to go on a date with you?" The pair slowly nodded. She pressed, "Like, you don't _mind_? You're not going to freak out if say... I want to-" She forced herself to be brave for just another second, "hold his hand? Kiss him?"

Willow looked uncomfortable, Tara just let a fluttering smile return to her face. "Hand holding -okay. Could you not kiss him in front of me? Yet?" Willow asked with a hint of pleading in her voice, her face in a tense grimace.

"That works for me!" Spike shouted in, the smirk evident in his voice.

"Vampire hearing. Gotta love it." Buffy sighed. "You- you're serious?"

"We want you to be happy. He makes you happy. H-he's not 'good', Buffy. But he does his best to be." Tara encouraged.

"And- and frankly, even without a soul, he wouldn't hurt you. I'm all for that." Willow added, words tumbling out instinctively.

"Bloody right, I wouldn't!" The man in question validated her statement.

"Do you just want to come in here?" Buffy crossed her arms and threw her head back with a loud call.

"As soon as they find out what happened to Timmy!"

The girls in the kitchen burst into laughter. "He's very, umm, unique, Buffy." Willow managed to gasp out.

"I have to agree with you there. He has good-ish qualities. Everyone will just have to learn to- oh, geez. What about Xander? I think he was just getting used to him as 'hanging out' material. 'Dinner out' material, I don't think he can handle..." Buffy bit her thumb. Xander hadn't even liked Angel that much. He liked Riley, Mr. Joe Average. She didn't want to shove it in his face, that she'd chosen another _vampire_.

"Let _Anya_ handle Xander." Tara said firmly.

"Oh, poor Xander." Willow murmured. The three of them exchanged another glance and burst out laughing again.

The trio sat in the kitchen, nibbling on leftovers and reading through Buffy's college admissions packet. Eventually, _Passions_ ended, and Spike stood and stretched, deeming it safe to approach the kitchen again. He entered, but stayed in the doorway. Buffy flashed him a grateful look and moved a little closer to him. "Ham?" She offered.

"Any blood left?" He asked, moving to the foil wrapped platter in the center of the counter.

"I don't know." Willow looked in the fridge. "No, sorry."

"No worries. I've got some at home." Spike shrugged and grabbed a piece with a quick jab of his fingers. "I'm just waiting until-" He paused, sensitive ears picking up a familiar thudding heartbeat. "Bit's home."

"Well, we'll have to start keeping a couple bags here, I guess." Buffy said hesitantly.

"Bit's _home_." He repeated, and sure enough, as he finished speaking the door swung open and panting was heard. Dawn tore into the kitchen, hearing voices. "Hi Niblet."

"Oh, God! Spike's here. A-And you're all picking at food. Picking at food means bad!"

"Or, that I skipped lunch." Buffy explained in a patient voice. Then she hugged her sister tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to bother you at school, they made a really, _really_ big deal out of your grades and attendance, so I decided it'd be better if I saw you at home. Everything is fine." Buffy said gently.

"Everything's fine?" Dawn repeated, sitting down abruptly, flooded with relief. "Oh. Oh, goody."

"You weren't really scared, Bit, were you?" Spike winked at her. "You know I'd never let them take you away from Big Sis."

"You always keep the promises you make to your ladies, right?" She leaned briefly against his outstretched arm.

"I try my hardest." He whispered, locking his intense gaze with Buffy's.

"We know you do." She admitted in a barely audible voice, and let Dawn pull her into an "almost hug" with Spike, their arms touching, but only because they were both resting on Dawn's back.

There it was. Something so familiar and so recently lost._ Never thought I'd get it back. It's only a tiny little reminder, and I'm not gonna go crazy about it._ There will be no Hallmark moments here. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever. _But just for a second, it felt like I had a family again. Not two pieces missing the center._ Buffy pulled away and forced herself to smile cheerily. "We have mondo good news to celebrate. Oh, and more good news-" Buffy held up her admissions packet, and Dawn shrilled an excited scream.

"So, dinner for all. Cheap dinner for all, but all of us shall make with the dinner-y goodness." Buffy briskly stacked the papers and began rewrapping the ham. "Should we go for burgers or pizza?"

"I vote burgers." Dawn said.

"Me, too." Willow raised her hand, and Tara put hers up as well.

"Spike?"

"Absolutely." He grinned. "You got homework, Niblet?"

"Yes." She groaned. They exchanged a look. "Fine! I'll get started."

"Got you a little something." Spike walked out of the room with her. In a minute, Buffy heard Dawn exclaim over the sparkly key chain.

"It'd be better with some car keys on it." She said loudly enough for her sister to hear.

"Not working." Buffy returned in the same blatantly "wanting to be overheard" tone. There was a sigh and the sound of books thudding to the coffee table.

"What the hell kind of teachers assign this much work?" Spike grumbled, looking at the pile of assignments.

"Scabby old bats." Dawn grumbled. "Thirty geometry problems. Mrs. Leland is a bitch."

"Bloody right."

"Argggh! Stoppit!" Buffy shouted, marching towards them. "Stop teaching her to sound like you! With the- weird British stuff and the cursing!"

"No." Spike said simply, a little smirk on his face, a gleam in his eye.

"No?" Buffy came in, fixing him with steely green eyes.

"No." He repeated simply, grin widening.

"Spike, you can't just say 'no' like that!"

Willow and Tara exchanged a look, a furtive smile, and took the portable phone onto the back porch to call the rest of the gang and invite them for celebratory burgers.

"What'cha gonna do about it, Slayer? You gonna get _mad_ at me? For a. Little. Dumb. _Fight_?" He punctuated each word with a tap of his hand high up on his thigh. His tongue curled slowly behind his teeth, and his eyes closed half way.

His words sunk in. "Maybe I will." Buffy smiled coldly, and then let the frost drip out, leaving a smolder in its place. "Or I might do something nice if you just listen to me." She let her hand brush the back of his neck casually, as if on accident, bending to retrieve the remote. Spike's eyes shut all the way, and he shifted slightly on the carpet.

On the other side of the coffee table, Dawn watched them nervously. "I think I'm going to go get Willow. She's better at math anyway." _So_ glad those two met each other. No girls but slayers get turned on by fighting. My sister is so weird. Dawn shook her head silently, and took her book out to find her mathematically gifted friend.

"You are a tease." Spike hissed after the teenager left.

"You love me for that, don't you?"

"You still love me? Really, even though your mates are findin' out? An' sometimes I play it a little too close to the bad side of the line?" He pulled her hand suddenly, and she sank down to the edge of the coffee table, sitting on a stack of notebooks.

"I still do." She shivered suddenly, not from his seduction, but from fear. It was starting to come out. Get real. And if it was real, they could take it from you.

"Don't. We can do it." He encouraged in a passionate whisper, knowing what prompted her small tremor.

"We don't know that. We've never- either of us- had a relationship that was just basic average stuff. There's always gonna be slaying, and you drinking blood."

"Thought you didn't want me to give up who I am?" He reminded her. "Thought you got this, that it's gonna have to be a blend of the run of the mill stuff, plus what we have to do."

"I know. And I'm scared." She winced. She hated saying that. Ugh. Especially to Spike. Love him or not, there were still some things that didn't sit well saying to that cocky bleach blonde. But he wasn't cocky now. He was listening intently, staring up at her with understanding eyes. "When we try to do things, like other people do things- it can never work."

"Things like goin' out with your pals, helpin' Bit with her homework, moppin' floors, runnin' errands?" He pointed out in a nudging voice.

"Killing demons, threatening college people, knifing loan sharks. Literally, loan _sharks_." She pushed off the table, only to find herself pulled firmly back down.

"Yeah, there's that. But we- we have something here, Buffy."

"I know." She sounded upset, and the pain flashed in his eyes. "I know." She repeated more gently. "But it isn't going to be easy."

"Prolly right. How about this though?" He slipped his hands up to her cheeks and sat himself up higher. "Doesn't have to come easy. Doesn't have to come normally. It just-" He held her in a spell with his eyes, "has to come_ naturally._"

She leaned in and kissed him. Naturally. Slaying, fighting, loving someone, loving her friends and family... once upon a time all those things had been natural for her. Well, instinctive, anyway, there wasn't anything natural for a 15 year old shopaholic about turning crosses from fashion accessories into defensive aids. But it could come naturally again. It's in my nature. _I am full of love. Death is my gift._

He opened his eyes and looked into hers, passionate, hopeful, hungry. _There's a human who loves behind those eyes. A dead man made his heart beat for me. I am full of love- I can heal him. He can heal me. The dead man can heal me. We'll bring each other back to life. _

"We go against nature." She was falling into his lap, his kisses, speaking between them.

"Yeah, Pet, we do." He rasped. "_Naturally._"

"You're trying so hard, aren't you?" She whispered, genuinely touched.

So she did notice. "So are you, Baby."

"Spike?"

"Mmhmm?" His lips were brushing hers faster, and she was kneeling now, right between his legs. He didn't know where the other birds in this nest were, but they'd better bugger off and stay the hell away from this room. If she didn't stop pushing that hot, pouty little mouth of hers against him, he wasn't going to be held accountable for what happened next.

"Thanks for that."

He stopped kissing her. He didn't ask why he was being thanked. Because he got it. The being naturally unnatural with her. The pretending things were normal when things got to be too much. The meshing. The trying. "You're welcome." He smiled.

The double date with Tara and Willow was turning out to be... interesting. No, Buffy corrected herself. It was turning out to be totally freaking wiggidy weird. Buffy was getting extremely ticked off with her "date". He didn't make small talk worth a darn. He kept lighting up in no smoking areas. And he radiated lust like a carload of teenagers who had no curfew.

And about halfway through dinner, when he started really getting on her nerves, already worn thin to the point of killing something because, damn it, she didn't date,(she was sure it was in the handbook, if she'd read it, in big letters 'The Chosen One Does Not Date') something clicked in her head. You know why he isn't acting like your date? Because you're not treating him like he is!

She looked at Spike, who was moodily swigging a beer and flicking an unlit cigarette between thumb and forefinger, looking with glazed eyes at Willow who was trying to explain something about ancient Gaelic translations. No one is treating him like a person. God, you know what? Only _Dawn _treats him like a person. Knows what he likes, spends time with him just for the sake of spending time with him. See? Girlfriend slash dating suckfest.

Why in the world is she lookin' at me like that? An' why am I here? Meshing her girl life and her slayer life, fine, all well and good- but I'm on a double date! Dear God, buggerin' Gidget, an' now a double date. Next she'll ask me to go steady... He grinned foolishly. That'd suit him, actually. Could always be her steady. I'm the reliable, faithful sort.

She's lookin' at me like that again, like she hasn't seen me since we got here, like she's just noticin' that I sat down next to her. He looked away, and noticed Red's mouth was finally shut. Nice girl, bloody amazin' brain in that head, but she got carried away with the magic, didn't she? Maybe that's why Buffy's lookin' at me, I'm supposed to make a comment. Be polite. I don't do polite, bloody hell, look at what I've gotten myself into... "Yeah, Red. Those Druids." He shifted uncomfortably.

"Actually, the Druids-" And she was off again.

Buffy shifted in the booth, sliding closer to him. Fixing her eyes on Willow, she nudged Spike with her shoulder, prodding his arm. "What?" He asked sharply after the third nudge.

"I was going to sit closer to you, but if you're gonna be a grumpy pants..."

"You were?" He put his arm instantly around her shoulders and pulled her snug against him. "I'm sorry, the Druids?" Suddenly stories didn't seem so boring. Not when he had this soft, warm object of his heart's desire squished close to him. He lowered a hand, resting it on her knee. And sliding up...

Buffy bit her straw with a noise that she managed to make sound like an encouraging, interested-in-whatever-you're-saying sound. She kicked Spike under the table. He moved his hand out of the space between her thighs and back to her knee.

"Willow, Sweetie, you lost them when you started mentioning ancient rites." Tara broke in gently.

"I did? Geez, I'm sorry, guys."

"Oh, no Will. It's not that! It's just, I don't understand it." Buffy spread her hands hopelessly.

"An' I just wasn't payin' attention." Spike admitted with a cocky smile. "Sorry, Red."

"At least you're honest." Willow smiled sheepishly.

"I've always been in on the other side of the mojo. The dark stuff." Spike slid down in his seat with a cat like stretch. "Although some of it's kinda gray area. Locator spells an' the like. Could do 'em for friend or foe."

"Gray areas in magic are tr-tricky." Tara spoke up, wishing that she could get the group onto another topic. She and Willow were witches, but they weren't_ just _witches. And magic was great, but it could consume you, and Willow had been getting sucked in. With love and support, she was leaving it where it should be, a facet of her life, not the whole of her life. "Gray areas in any part of life are tricky."

"You're right about that." Buffy sighed. Spike squeezed her supportively.

"Quite the philosopher." Spike praised Tara. "Enlighten us?"

"There's nothing to enlighten. We just all know. There's some things that seem bad, but they're good in some ways, and some things seem perfect, but they aren't."

"Rather have me a good messy battle any day." Spike said gruffly.

"Then this must be hard on you, too." Buffy murmured, more to herself than to her companions. She knew it was actually. He'd told her more than once that loving her went against all his instincts. But he did it anyway. Did it so well.

"What's that, Buffy?" Willow prompted.

"Nothing." She coughed suddenly, and stalled. "Just thinking."

"You say you like big messy battles, not big on the thinking, but you're really smart." Willow appraised Spike grudgingly. "The way you help Dawn..."

"Is nothin'. She's a freshman in high school. It's all common knowledge for anyone over the age of 18." Buffy coughed pointedly. "Unless, of course, you had more important things to do that remember how to analyze figurative language. Savin' the world an' things like that." He trailed off.

"Oh God! Guys! I'm gonna have to write papers. Read text books! Know stuff!" Buffy whimpered suddenly. "Why isn't there a degree in slaying?" She put her head woefully on Spike's shoulder.

"I'll help." All three of her friends chorused in a single voice.

"I'm holding you to that." Buffy laughed in spite of her feeling of dread.

"First thing that'll help you is some ice cream." Willow said firmly.

"Let's not get it here, let's get at Scoop's Parlor." Tara twined her fingers with Willow's. "Pretty please? It's not too far of a walk, and they do sprinkles."

"Anything for my girl." Willow leaned over and brushed Tara's cheek with her lips.

Spike sighed and relaxed further. This wasn't going nearly as badly anymore.

"Spike?"

"What, Luv?"

"Do you even like ice cream?" The table froze. Tara and Willow exchanged guilty looks. Looks that silently shouted " We don't even know. We've never asked. We've known this guy for more than a year and we don't know much about him at all."

Spike found his voice. He was so used to roughly being told what to take, or roughly demanding what he wanted- with everyone but Bit. "Yeah, actually, Luv, I do like it. Chocolate's my favorite." They started sliding from the booth, taking their checks from the table.

"Mine, too!" Buffy beamed. Like a first date. Finding out all the little things in common. Oh, I know plenty of the big stuff. I know lots of little things, too. But this is different. This is... guy and girl stuff. She put her hand in his.

"Blood mixes in nice an' smooth." He sighed reminiscently. Her hand jerked from his, and he turned thinking she was mad, or disgusted- but instead it was all three of them, standing a step back, all frozen in shock. "Well, what? Vampire!" He hissed softly, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "You lot are gonna have to get used to it." Outwardly on the defensive, he was inwardly cursing himself. Didn't really need to say that, did you? Could've said, chocolate's my favorite, an' been done. _Datin' was easier with Dru. Maim, torture, giggle, drink blood, dance in the dark, sex, sleep_. He looked at his hard fought for girl, his Buffy, now replacing her hand in his, shaking off her shock. _But I'd choose this one any day..._

"Well. Uh- yeah. Everything's better with chocolate, right guys?"

"Yeah." Willow squeaked out, and Tara nodded eagerly.

"Dawnie puts mashed bananas in her chocolate ice cream." Tara pointed out.

"And in peanut butter quesadillas." Willow looked ill.

"She gets that weird food thing from hanging out with you." Buffy told Spike with an elbow to his side.

"Jus' 'cause I like to put Wheatabix an' burba weed in my- put your wallet away, Slayer."

"My turn! You paid for the huge ham dinner!"

"You paid for the burgers."

"Giles paid for the burgers."

"You guys should request separate checks." Tara murmured softly and leaned into Willow.

"Uh- guys? Line of people waiting to pay." Willow nodded towards the string of diners forming behind them.

"I've got it this time. You spring for ice cream?" Buffy looked up at him with melting green eyes.

"That's not fair. With the kitty cat eyes..." He slowly handed her the bill.

"It's okay. I'll order lots of ice cream." She giggled and paid.

They walked out into the cool night air, still close, but no longer holding hands. Spike missed her warmth against his skin, but knew why she did it. The real world looms, people might see, not just Willow and Tara who understood. Other people who might somehow know, might somehow look at her and judge. For that matter- plenty of demons out who might see him and do the same. And that was all he needed, able to handle himself or not, was lots of the baddies gunning for him. Any demon who knew about the romantic relationship with Buffy was conveniently dusty or dead. _I'm still gonna hold her hand though. Whenever she's ready to admit this is real, no matter who's watchin'._

_ "_The store's closing soon. We should get to Dawn." Tara reminded them as they threw their napkins away, licking remains of chocolate off her fingers.

"Mmhm. Did you know chocolate is a scientifically proven aphrodisiac?" Willow rubbed her girlfriend's hip suggestively.

"Is it now?" Spike perked up his ears, a look of feigned surprise rapidly melting into a smirk.

"Way to go, Wills." Buffy sighed. "Now I have horny vamp to deal with."

"Oi! Not 'horny'. Fangy." He replied indignantly.

"Not like- oh never mind." Buffy really wished Willow hadn't said that. What was it? The power of superstition? No, suggestion. Put a thought in my head and- it was wrong watching him eat ice cream like she had been. Watching how it barely melted, no matter how much time he spent running his tongue in slow circles around it...

Bugger the aphrodisiacal properties of chocolate. Watching her eat ice cream was damn near a sexual experience in itself. Who the hell taught her to wrap her lips around the top of the ice cream peak while looking at you the whole time?

"We'll get Dawnie if you want, Buffy." Willow tried to do something extra nice, mistaking Buffy and Spike's silence following her teasing remark as frustration at one another, instead of merely sexual longing. "Then you won't have to stop home before patrol. You-um- you're still going to patrol together? Right?"

"Wh-what else would we being doing?" Buffy jumped guiltily.

"I was just checking." Willow blushed. She caught Spike's smirk and- accept-o-gal or not she felt a little protectiveness seep back in. "You don't want us to wait for you, to walk you home?"

Spike cocked his head. Walk the Slayer home? Good one, like you'd be able to handle something she couldn't, ha bloody ha. Not that I don't do the same thing...

"I'm fine."

"I'll look after her." Spike said, earning himself a glare from the object of his affections.

"I do not need looking after!" She hissed. "Or walking home!" She threw Willow a much less powerful stare, not a glare, more of a "Don't worry and hello, I'm _the Slayer_?" look.

"Well, least you're not mad at just me for a change." He lit a smoke and leaned against a lamp post.

"I'm not mad at anyone. I can just take care of myself." That's not going so well admittedly, but I _can_.

"We know." Tara, voice of reason, smiled. "I think it's sweet th-that your- that Spike said that, though. Chivalrous."

"Or archaically patronizing." Willow mumbled.

"It wasn't either of those things! An' what'd you do, swallow a dictionary?" Spike protested.

"Hey!" Willow and Tara said as one. Spike raise a placating hand and blew a ring of smoke into the dark sky.

"Slayer, you up for patrol, minus an escort?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Spike won't let anything bad happen. Not that I couldn't handle it."

"But it's good to have someone watch your back." Tara stated, to which Willow grudgingly nodded and Spike tried not to look too satisfied.

"Right. Um. See you at home?" Buffy hugged her girlfriends and Spike waved, giving each of them a genuine smile, earning two hesitantly hopeful looks in return.

The girls headed in one direction and Spike and Buffy headed in the other. "Perimeter sweep and then cemeteries?" Spike suggested.

"Sure." She shrugged.

"What's wrong, Luv? It didn't go too badly, did it?"

"Oh. No, I thought it went pretty good." She stopped walking and took his arm. "I'm sorry if I don't do couple stuff right. I tried to warn you."

"I think you do fine. Lord knows I bleedin' don't."

"We just need more practice. The- dating thing." Her mouth quirked as if she'd just drank an unexpected gulp of vinegar. "Oh God! We did it- a- a _date_!"

"We don't date. And I'll never be your boyfriend." He smiled and shook his head. "You tried your best, Luv. Sometimes these things kinda creep up on you."

"Key word being _creep._" She mumbled. But a smile slowly etched itself onto her face.

"Look, Pet, I don't mind if we never say we date. We spend time together. It's fine. It's what we do that counts. I'm glad it isn't all patrolling, that's a treat for me."

"Me, too. I haven't had a non-patrol-y date in a very, very long time." She shivered suddenly, feeling a tug inside as she recalled the seemingly endless timeless realm she'd so recently lived in. How could if only have been five months? Plus, several months before that. Since Riley left. Since she'd been left.

Knowing where her silence was leading her, Spike interceded. "We haven't had a proper ending to our date. Gotta have a night cap an' a goodnight kiss. Then we can go an' get all businesslike." He turned them around and walked them back into town.

"Where are we going?" Buffy faltered as he led her.

"One drink. One dance. One kiss goodnight." He propelled her along, getting deeper into the center of town, where the Bronze sat waiting.

"We can't go in there, everybody else goes there!" She hissed.

"Then they probably won't notice one more couple drinking and taking a turn round the floor." He kept his grip firm.

"I don't even drink! Well- not unless you count me trying hard liquor with you once and one bad experience with beer."

"I'll get you a coke, Buffy." He shook his head and smiled playfully. "You're not gettin' out of this. I'm gonna have a proper endin' to a first date."

"I thought dates ended with the guy asking you to come back to his place." She muttered petulantly.

"You're gonna do that anyway, aren't you, Luv?" He whispered, leaning in close, lips grazing just above her ear.

"Yes." She admitted.

"Love you." He dropped the already dark, murky voice even lower, timbre managing to reach straight inside her, swirl into her middle and press lower, making her want him, right then and there.

"I love you." She breathed out, knees weakening. _How did he do that? And knees going weak? How 18th century is that? Oh well- dating a relic, guess I'll have to get used to it. _His hands moved slowly down her sides, pressing harder the lower her got, stopping high on her outer thighs.

"We could go back to my place right now if you want, Luv. But I'm tryin' to make tonight work the way dates are s'posed to in this world. Where we don't play by the rules, but we like to try." Hands squeezed in. Feel her heat, burning him, feel that lava core starting to flow, soak her softest skin. _And soon it'll be wrapped around me. _

"Just one dance." She conceded breathlessly.

"Yes." He agreed quickly. Now he was beginning to regret even that. Bedroom dancin' was infinitely preferable to ballroom dancin'.

The club was packed. He ordered a coke for each of them, staying off of hard liquor because even though it took a lot to affect him, he didn't want to be in the slightest affected tonight. Wanted to watch her dance. Wanted to watch her fight, kill, and then take all the energy she had left over and pour it out on him.

"There's no room to walk in here, forget dancing!" Buffy shouted over the ear splitting noise of the band and the people clamoring. She was thankful for his extra sensitive hearing let him understand her the first time.

"Just means we have to dance _close_." Spike purred.

"What?" She might have some special senses in her bag of slayer tricks, but it was still too loud in the throng of people.

"Finish your drink!" He drained his own, and she followed suit.

"Now what did you say?"

"I said we'll have to dance_ close_." This time he showed her as well as told her, wrapping his hands across her tight gluteal muscles and pulling her hips to his, speaking with his lips only a few inches from her eyes, letting her see his words as they formed, not just hear them.

They struggled through the crowd, her leading, still feeling him pressed into her rear, tight muscles and two layers of jeans, his and hers, doing nothing to stop her from feeling the hardness. And feeling his muscles tense, he must be able to feel the tendrils of wetness she had spiraling from between her legs.

By the time they found a space on the floor where they could actually manage to turn and face each other, the band had stopped for their break between sets. Couples trailed off, and Buffy groaned. "This town needs more than one club." She no longer had to shout, but spoke loudly.

"We've got time. It's early yet." He remained stubbornly on the floor, although he led her to one of the darkest places on the edge, cast in a shadow overhead from the balcony, blocked from the shining smoky lights of the stage by a thick black pillar. "In a minute they'll put on the canned music, an' we'll have our dance."

"Then the kiss goodnight?" She grinned.

"Then the 'back to my place'." He licked his lips. "We could start on the kiss now, if you'd like."

"I like." She slowly let the rest of the room melt away, until just him, with those ivory lips, and cool comforting body remained. "I love."

"Me, too." He breathed into her, cold air from dead lungs forcibly expelled as he clashed with her heat.

She didn't even notice when the music began, only knew he was moving against her, hands slipping up and down her back, hips to hers.

_Man, it's a hot one_

_Like seven inches from the midday sun_

_Well I hear you whisper and the words melt everyone_

"You're so hot, Luv, did you know that?" He gasped in, breaking the kiss. Her pulse was speeding up, heart beating through her thin red shirt.

_But you stay so cool_

"You're getting warmer." She nodded breathlessly, before she rocked her hips back, pulling him with her, heads crashing together hungrily again.

_My munequita, my Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa_

_You're my reason for reason_

_The step in my groove_

_Yea_

_And if you say, "this life ain't good enough"_

_I would give my world to lift you up_

"I would you know." He broke their lips free again.

"Would what?" She hooked one finger in his belt loop, swaying with him.

_I could change my life to better suit your mood_

_'Cause you're so smooth_

"Change for you. I did." It had hurt. But what he got, what he learned, was worth it.

"I know you did." Her simple reassurance made him quiver. When a woman looks at you with that kind of trust in her eyes...

_And it's just like the ocean under the moon_

_Well it's the same as the emotion that I get from you_

"You pull me in. You drown me, Buffy." He leaned his head back down. She was just staring at him as they swayed, rocking slowly, hands going places they shouldn't go.

_You got the kind of lovin' that can be so smooth, yeah_

_Gimme your heart, make it real_

_Or else forget about it_

"Buffy?"

"Mhmm?" Mesmerized by the feel of him, lost in those blue oceans.

"Your heart?" I know it. I've known it for weeks now. I want her to say it again...

"You got it."

He moved in like he was springloaded. She smiled slowly into his kissing mouth, reveling in the look of stark joy and awe on his face. He already knew that. He likes when I say it though.

_I'll tell you one thing_

_If you would leave it would be a crying shame_

_ "_If you don't leave." That was the deal. He can have me- if he doesn't leave. If I don't leave.

"Would I ever?" He smiled with easy confidence.

"No." He never would. She should know, she'd tried for years to push him away and he stubbornly remained.

_In every breath and every word I hear your name callin' me out_

"How can I bloody leave you, girl? You're my everything. God help me."

_Out from the barrio you hear my rhythm from your radio_

_You feel the turning of the world so soft and slow_

Turning her away from him, hands across her chest, fingers pulling just under her breasts, feeling without getting caught, pulling her back into him. He could dig himself in better this way, have to capture her heat, and hold her to him. _She can't leave. If I can't leave, she can't either._

_Turning you round and round_

_And if you say, "This life ain't good enough"_

_I would give my world to lift you up_

_ "_Thanks for all you did for me." She liked the feel of him behind her. She'd been so dumb to think he might try anything bad the first time he had moved into an intimate position with her in front. Now she knew what it was like to have him at her back, not an enemy, a lover, a supporter. She whipped around to face him, boring her eyes into his, soft swell of her chest shoved to his abs.

"You're welcome." He grinned, biting down a lustful snarl.

_I could change my life to better suit your mood_

"I'm changing, too, you know." She murmured.

"I know." He nodded with a deep bow of his head. She was a far cry from the girl who was only living in this world until some sweet disaster could take her out again.

_'Cause you're so smooth_

_And it's just like the ocean under the moon_

_Well it's the same as the emotion that I get from you_

"I'm not _drowning_ in you. But you pull me in." She whispered.

_You got the kind of lovin' that can be so smooth, yeah_

_Gimme your heart, make it real_

_Or else forget about it_

"Spike? Your-"

"Don't even ask, Luv. You already own it."

"It's real."

"It's real."

_And just like the ocean under the moon_

_Well it's the same as the emotion that I get from you_

Grinding together, backing slowly away from the middle of the floor where swaying hips had somehow traveled.

_You got the kind of lovin' that can be so smooth, yeah_

_Gimme your heart make it real_

Kissing hard, hard enough to leave marks on each other. The music, and all the things it reminded them of, piling out, emotions looking for a physical outlet.

_Or else forget about it_

_Yeah_

The retreated completely into the shadows, no longer dancing, engaging in something more like a long, sustained writhe that started and restarted on every hard pulsing down beat. Feeling every nerve of each other. So real, this is earth, this isn't heaven, too hard, too real...but I like it.

_Or else forget about it_

"You won't change your mind?" Buffy didn't mean to ask. She trusted him. Really. But how could she not always have just a little doubt? If Mr. Faithful Anti- Demon ended up in vampire brothels, if the man who claims he'll return to you always wakes up one morning trying to murder you, goes to hell and back, but runs once he decides you can't handle it, if souls can leave and return as easily as opening and closing windows... if your eternity has an end- then you have to ask.

_Or else forget about it_

"Never. " He didn't hate her for asking. He pulled her hand to his heart. "Never. You?" He shouldn't push. But hearts don't understand that. She paused, mouth moving slightly, no words forming.

_Or else forget about it_

_(Gimme your heart make it real)_

"No. I won't change my mind. I can't. If I could forget it, I would've done it by now." She confessed helplessly.

_Or else forget about it_

_(yeah)_

He smiled slowly, relaxing her with his broadening grin, until not being able to change her mind no longer seemed like such a bad thing.

_Let's don' forget about it_

_(Oh, no, no)_

"Good. That's a very good thing, Pet."

_Let's don' forget about it_

_(Oh, no, no)_

"Very good." She agreed, nodding, and slowly pulled him out the door.


	10. Chapter 10

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. Includes some canonical events, but with a twist. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold. In "Desire", Spike and Buffy have caught and jailed the "Trio" and therefore many of the tragic events that occurred in the series have changed for the better._

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, Idiosyncratic Delusions, Amiradanielle, Msnycegirl0820, somethinginthewayful, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, or other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. Starts off fluffy- gets serious. _

_Reviews please!_

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part X

"Bollockin', buggerin', bastard bitch of a bird!" Spike ran his smoking hand in icy water from the tap.

"Good God, Spike, they make these things called pot holders!" Xander retrieved the turkey from its precarious perch halfway in and halfway out of the oven.

"I know that, I just caught the edge of it under the rack instead of the pan! An' unlike you, mere mortal, I'm a bit more flammable."

"Then you should stop smoking." Anya said cheerfully. "You might want to put some butter on that."

"Bit! Give us a hand, could you?" Spike leaned back against the fridge, reddened hand cradled in the other one.

"I'm coming, what do you- oh, Spike!" Dawn ran to him and immediately seized his burnt fingers.

"Ow! Sod it, girl!"

"Sorry!" Dawn winced at her mistake and looked at him apologetically.

"Can you please toss a bag of blood in the micro for me?" He sighed, and she obeyed, opening the fridge and retrieving one of the many fluid-filled plastic bags that lurked in the crisper drawer now. She opened it and pouring it into a mug with practiced skill, handing him a stick of butter as well. "You get that from your sis, you know. The whole grabbin' a person by their injured bits? Florence Nightingale she's not."

"She's better now." Dawn said defensively.

"Where_ is_ our Julia Child?" Xander finished basting the turkey.

"Yeah, 'cause I need to know if I can use this butter, or will I have to run to the store to get more if I do. 'Cause I'd rather have the burns than run to the store on Thanksgivin' afternoon!"

"She's spazing out in the basement because she put her sweater in the hot wash setting with all the dishtowels we used last night." Dawn explained. The microwave beeped, and she handed Spike the mug, which he took in his good hand. "Wait a minute and Buffy can be up here to kiss your boo-boo and make it better."

"She will not. Not if she wants yours truly to remain hurl-free until after the pie course." Xander glared at Spike.

"Xander. Remember. Positive reinforcement. Be nice to Spike, and you get treats when you get home." Anya smiled at her groom-to-be."

Xander blushed and Spike smirked. " Treats? Cookies?" Spike asked in an innocent voice.

"I'm not allowed to say in front of Dawn. But if you want to come into the hall with me for a -"

"NO!" Xander exploded, and then laughed nervously. "Anya, come with me. Find that wedding catalogue to look through so we can order the invitations."

"But the celery and onions for the stuffing..."

"Someone else can do that." Xander said firmly, laughed again, and ushered his boundary-issued fiancée from the kitchen.

Buffy came storming up the stairs. "Look at this! $40.00 dollars on clearance, and now it's a bikini top!" She held up a white sweater- or what used to be a white sweater, and now resembled a white sports bra with cap sleeves.

"I like it." Spike looked at it lustfully.

"You would. Not that you'd ever get to see it on me." Buffy added hastily, for Dawn's benefit.

Dawn pouted. "You should be nicer to him. Not many boyfriends would be over here helping four girls bake pies half the night, and then be back in the morning after patrolling the other half of the night to help cook some more."

"And I get extra points." Spike and Buffy both chose to ignore that Dawn referred to him as "boyfriend". "See what I've done to my hand?"

"Oh!" Buffy moved towards him, and then back away, resisting her impulse to hug him.

"Oh, my God! Please. Seriously. It's only me, and even if everyone else- well-except for Giles- _is_ in the house, they_ already know_." Dawn waved her hands in exasperation.

"Were you going to use the butter? Because I have just enough for the stuffing and the rolls- the rolls! The dough!"

"See, told you I shouldn't use the butter." Spike sighed and drank the mugful of blood down quickly, knowing the quicker it got in his system, the quicker he'd heal. He tucked the butter back in the fridge and yanked out the two pans of rising dough.

"Then he should totally get a kiss to make it all better." Dawn shoved her sister forward pointedly.

"Where are Tara and Willow?" Buffy ignored Dawn's glare and Spike's pout.

"They're upstairs, sleeping in- which means sex- because they have the day off from classes." Dawn said matter of factly. Buffy blanched and Spike looked thoughtful.

"So, wait now. The witches can kiss. The vengeance demons can kiss. But the vampires and slayers can't?" Spike looked at her with his sparkling blue eyes, half jesting, half serious. "I'm bein' discriminated against."

"I'm gonna go get the rest of the dishtowels." Dawn grinned and walked down to the basement.

"I'm only teasin', Luv." Spike rubbed her arm. "Although I do like the idea about the sweater being used as a piece of lingerie." He muttered in an undertone.

"Come here." She gave in, and kissed him on his flayed-looking palm. She lightly ran her tongue over his burned fingers, and he moaned softly. "See? You get carried away so fast, and you know we have to wait until we get to your place. Or the house is empty."

"Luv, I don't think they'd care much if I spent the night, in the basement or the couch, but I could still come in and see you?"

"No. Not- not yet." She resumed kissing the affected areas of his hand, slightly more sensual in an effort to distract him.

They'd made it for almost two weeks of being "outed". The females of the group remained firmly, and vocally supportive- if nervous. Xander and Giles remained in a cocoon of denial, wincing painfully if they ever observed anything romantic in nature pass between the two of them.

She clung stubbornly to one rule. Never when anyone else was home, and never in her room. Actually, since they'd been on their double date, they'd never gotten cozy in her home again. Spike could sort of understand that. They were loud and passionate. He'd rather have a holy water rub down than have Niblet overhear them. But he knew there was more. Her last vestige of remaining alone, of keeping him out, was never letting him penetrate the heart of her house, her sanctuary, her room. Never more than a minute or two at a time, and God forbid he should suggest they "go upstairs".

"We- we have to get back to cooking." She murmured softly. "We can't tonight. There's the mall. Christmas shopping."

"Oh, right. This'll be fun." Spike caught her chin with his good hand and held it. "I get one of my gifts early, Buffy."

Oh, how can you refuse a man who thinks a kiss from you is a gift? Bitch-Buffy could. Terrible- but-Trying- Buffy could not. She slowly leaned him back against the fridge and kissed him softly, tongue tangling briefly with his, before pulling away.

"Happy Thanksgiving." She smiled.

"I'm more lookin' forward to Black Friday. I'm buyin' you a Christmas gift this year, y'know." He gave her a cheeky grin. "Need you to come with me an' try things on."

"Spike!" She blushed, and got warmer. "You prefer me in nothing, you know that." She hissed.

"Then I will be buying large boxes of nothin', and you'd better wear 'em every night." He winked.

"I already do, don't I?" She whispered and sashayed out of his grasp.

"Is it safe to come up?" Dawn called.

"Yes, Niblet." Spike got the door for her, flexing his stiff, but already healing hand. "You go fold. I'll chop. Oi! Mr. and Mrs.! You comin' in here to help with the slicin' and dicin'?"

"What about a Valentine's Day wedding?" Anya bounced in to the room, still talking to Xander who trailed after her with a headache-y expression.

"I thought you lot were in March."

"So did I." Xander muttered.

"But it would be so romantic. These traditional holidays. Plus, there was a mafia related massacre on the same date, which would make many of the demon guests happy, and, plus, if we do have it the first weekend of March, a lot of my vengeance demon friends will be busy, carrying out all the wishes from Valentine's Day."

"But wouldn't some of your guests get summoned during the _ceremony _if you hold it then?" Buffy asked. "With all the people who are miserable and making wishes on Valentine's Day?"

"Oh, you're right. D'Hoffryn might even get called out. It's a busy day." Anya gave a reminiscent sigh.

"Your boss and demon buddies might have to bail?" Xander took in this information. "That's a shame, really. But Honey, it _is _a super romantic day. And I'd never forget our anniversary that way. Plus, twice the gifts on Valentine's Day."

Anya glared at him skeptically. "We'll see. I know you're just saying that because you'll be happy when my demon friends leave."

"Ahn, Sugar, don't be silly-" Xander wheedled.

"Uh- wouldn't do that, mate, she's got a big knife just now." Spike whispered as Anya brandished a knife at a defenseless pile of celery.

"What about the week before? Then everyone can come before the seasonal 'rush'?" Dawn, folding dishtowels and stacking the in one of the kitchen drawers, suggested.

"That'd put us almost a month early!" Xander yelped.

"I'm beginning to think you're getting cold feet, Xander Harris." Anya chopped celery viciously and thoroughly.

"That's skill." Spike said admiringly. He leaned over to Xander again and hissed, "Don't piss her off. She might be on the side of the angels now- but you don't have a thousand years of maimin' under your belt without pickin' up some tricks."

"Ahn, Honey. Even if I do have cold feet- you warm my tootsies right up." Xander came over to her and hugged her. "Your the cutest of the Scoobies, with your lips as red as rubies, and your supple, firm-" He began singing softly in her ear, voice dropping and her giggling crescendoing.

"Oh, boy." Buffy sighed. "It's getting mushy in here."

"What's mushy?" Willow bounced cheerfully down the stairs, Tara following her with pretty pink cheeks and glowing eyes.

"The house of loooove." Dawn giggled. "All the couples. Spike and Buffy, Xander and Anya, Tara and Willow." She beamed and started peeling potatoes.

"This is so much better than the last Thanksgiving dinner you made." Spike grinned.

"There won't be Native American spirit party crashers this time, right?" Xander asked hopefully.

"There better not be." Buffy growled. "I finally have peas that didn't come out of a box in the freezer section."

"I can't move." Xander moaned softly. "And- I think I lost a button off my shirt."

"I'll see your lost button and raise you a popped seam." Willow groaned and pushed feebly away from the table.

"Dawn, put down the wine glass, I may about to pass out, but I can still see you." Giles dropped his fork with a sigh.

"More turkey?"

"Ta', Luv. You want another roll?"

"Mmhm. And the cranberry sauce."

"How are they doing that?" Tara asked in open wonderment.

"It's like- some strange super power." Anya marveled, staring.

"Slayer metabolism." Giles muttered, straightening up in his chair.

Spike and Buffy, the only ones still eating, realized they were being stared at like fish in a bowl. "Wha?" Spike asked defensively, ripping into a slice of white meat.

"I'm sorry. Are we being pigs? Oh, my God, Willow! Why didn't you tell me I was being a pig?" Buffy cried.

"You aren't. You use so much more energy than we do." The redhead hastily soothed.

"Speaking of energy, all of us have to bulk carb load in the next 12 hours." Anya beamed, placing another roll on everyone's plate.

"We do?" Dawn whimpered, pushing her plate away.

"Yes! We have the capitalist ritual of the Black Friday sale at the store tomorrow. All of you are coming to assist. Right? All of you? I'm fairly certain I made sure that every one of you knew you would be needed. And compensated with a 20% discount on all merchandise not already marked down for our post-holiday, pre-holiday blowout."

"I may eat too much, but I've got nothin' on you in the words department." Spike finally broke the stunned silence following her long announcement.

"But- shopping!" Buffy pouted. Christmas gifts would be tokens, everyone had a price limit, all carefully budgeted for, but... the mall! To shop, even if not to buy! The thrill of the hunt that ended up with big bags of goodies, not dead demons and slime petrifying on your shoes.

"Midnight Mall Madness." Tara replied hastily, ever the peacekeeper. "We'll all go at midnight, and we'll all come home, get some sleep, and everyone will be able to help Giles and Anya at the store by-"

"Eight sharp. All of you," She looked at Spike significantly. "All of you."

"Me? I'm not a ruddy shop assistant." Spike said defensively.

"You are definitely not." Anya said firmly. He relaxed. "You're brute force. Your customer service skills would be worse than mine. You bring boxes up from the basement and help keep the shelves full."

"Manners." Buffy said hotly. Geez, does everyone not treat him like a person? I mean, that was my theme song, he's not a person,he doesn't have a soul, but come on! Anya, Miss Ex-Demon 1999? She knows better. Even _I _know better now.

"Right. Sorry. Please assist us in moving heavy things, without interacting with the customers."

"Oh hell. Yes, I'll do it." More time with Bit and Buffy. That's good by me.

"And I would like to point out that my lack of 'manners' is not related to Spike being a vampire. It's because I talk like that." Anya frowned. "But I'm getting better."

"You sure are, Luv." Spike raised his glass to her, and she beamed, returning the gesture. Xander leaned over and buried his face in her hair, cooing something at her.

This is it. Normal. Yes, normal. Safe, and warm and loved. Not heaven, but a pleasant reminder. Buffy leaned against Spike, not caring if everyone was watching.

She's leaning on me. In front of all of them. She didn't have more than a half glass of wine, not a drinker this girl... He hesitantly slid his arm around her, and then when she didn't throw a fit, he tightened his grip. "Bit, what do you want for Christmas?" With a gleam in her eye, she opened her mouth and Spike smirked as he cut her off. "From the _store_. It has to be something I can get _from the store_."I know what all of us want for Christmas, Luv. You, me, an' big sis. But it won't happen by Christmas, not without a miracle. Still- he cuddled her closer to him, and no one made so much as a peep- miracles could happen on occasion.

"I don't care. I um- I have everything I need. A scarf?"

"That's not very special." Spike argued.

"We have a $10.00 price limit. You can't get a lot of special for a tenner."

"British slang!" Buffy slapped her lover's hand accusingly, pointing at Dawn.

"I resent that." Giles said drowsily.

"But there are bargains afoot!" Willow cried. "Stacks of Wax has 50% off their entire inventory, Piercing Prima Donna has buy one get one free stuff."

"And significant others don't have to have a spending limit, right?" Anya asked, looking at Xander.

"No, Honey. But we do have a wedding to save for. No ponies and Corvettes." He teased.

"As if I would want anything so impractical as a Corvette or a pony." Anya scoffed.

"Um. We should eat dessert, if we want to shop." Dawn had gotten very quiet in the last few minutes, and now she put out a sudden burst of energy, clearing and bustling around the table.

"Oh, do stop moving, please." Giles moaned. "Twenty minutes minimum for digestion. It's only been about ten."

"I can't move." Willow moaned. "No kitchen duty yet..."

"It's okay, Baby, I can rub your tummy, that always makes you...feel... better." Tara trailed off as she realized everyone was looking at her and her partner. She blushed and put her hand back in her lap, taking it from Willow's abdomen.

"I know what Buffy needs to feel better after a big meal. A good, hard-"

"Spike!" Buffy yelped and knocked the bread basket over as she moved to shush him.

"Fight. You need to work some energy off!" He looked at her with wide blue eyes. "What's the matter with you, woman?" His quick grin told her he knew exactly what he was doing, winding her up and making her leap to the wrong conclusions. Is she wasn't so freaking cautious about the whole "them" thing, she might have smiled back. As it was, she rattled out a nervous explanation.

"Ummm. Nothing. Just- you know very well that we're taking tonight off. It's a holiday and we're not patrolling. So...so, no fighting." She bustled away, taking a stack of plates and joining Dawn in the kitchen.

Both of 'em always do that when they're guilty. They run. Wait- what's Bit got to be guilty about? Spike watched the two people he loved best in the world scurry away.

"Buffy, um, maybe could I just stay home tonight? Not shop?"

"Do you have a fever?" Buffy wiped her hands on her pants and pressed a palm to her forehead. "You don't feel warm. But then again- I suck at parental things. Tara!"

"No! Buffy, I just- I don't feel like going to the mall."

"TARA!" Buffy took Dawn by the shoulders. "Not shop? No mall? Okay, I'm calling a doctor."

"What's wrong?" Tara came in, and Buffy thrust Dawn out to her.

"Does she have a fever?"

"Buffy! Stop, I don't have anything wrong with me!" Dawn struggled to push her sister off. Tara looked at them quizzically.

"But- you love to shop. And I'm not leaving you here by yourself. Plus- I've seen your bank account. You have more money in there than I do. You are _so_ buying your big sister something pretty in the shoe department." Buffy tried to joke, all the while feeling strangely inadequate._ Doesn't she want to spend time with me? And how come I can kill a vampire with a pointy piece of wood, but I can't tell if my little sister has a fever? _

"I-I want to go. But-I can't go into Piercing Prima Donna." Dawn looked guiltily at her sister, and tucked her hair nervously behind her ear.

"Why?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

"Is everything okay?" Willow came in, looking slightly green.

"Could I see you in my room? Anya, too." Dawn left without waiting for an answer, smacking into Spike who was coming into the kitchen.

"Oi, Niblet, watch it." Spike juggled the turkey platter and gravy boat for a second before putting them on the counter. He looked at her for a second. "What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you later. You'll always love me, right? Even if Buffy doesn't?" She asked in a whisper, a mere breath, so low only vampiric hearing enabled him to pick up her question.

"Dawn, what? Why wouldn't she?" He tilted his head to look into her eyes.

"Just tell me you will." Dawn begged, voice slightly louder.

"I will always love you." He reassured, feeling a weight sink in his chest, and yet rise at the same time. Dawn darted upstairs, leaving him staring after her. I'm allowed to love her like my sister. I'm _allowed_, no one tellin' me I can't, no one prowlin' round me, givin' me the evil eye, thinkin' she's my ticket to Buffy. Why is my little Bit so scared though? And Buffy- how's she figure in?

Buffy pressed her cheek absently to Spike's arm as they passed. "Luv, Dawn-"

"I know. It's a girl thing, I think. She wants the girls to help her with something in her room." Tara was murmuring into Anya's ear, and she was pushing her chair back, and Willow was already heading upstairs.

In her room, Dawn took deep, shaking breaths, and retrieved a small box from her desk. With a final brave gulp of air, she shook it out with one swift thrust and left the pile of small trinkets on the bed.

"Dawn, what is it, Sweetie?" Tara came over and put her arm around Dawn instantly.

"Is this related to menstruation?" Anya sighed. "Because, I would like to point out that if that's the case, it's more of a biological relative thing to deal with."

"It's not that." Dawn blushed. "Shut the door, Willow?"

"Okay, Dawnie." Willow shut the door and stepped over to the bed, putting her arm around Dawn as well. Buffy looked at her pointedly.

"I- I have some things. That belong to you." Dawn whispered, and pointed helplessly to the bed.

"My earrings! Oh, and my watch." Anya beamed and retrieved her items with a little hop. "I'm so glad it isn't malicious spirits taking offerings for past evil deeds. You don't happen to have my spare set of house keys, do you?"

"You can just put stuff back in my room, you little drama queen." Buffy laughed, combing through, finding a few pieces of jewelry. "Dawn- why do some of them..." Buffy's voice sank and died away as she picked up a handful of costume jewelry with the price tags still attached.

"I'm sorry." Dawn whispered, huddling into Tara's arms.

Buffy didn't know what made her feel worse. That her sister was stealing, that she hadn't even noticed, or that she went into Tara's arms instead of hers, like she'd be afraid of her anger or disapproval. _You're a terrible sister, a terrible parent, they should have left you in heaven, you suck at this life. Look what kind of guardian you are!_

Willow scooped up a few crystals, a pendant, some bracelets of hers and Tara's. "You could always borrow things, Dawnie." She whispered, in an equally stricken voice. Oh, my God. I was so busy trying to bring Buffy back, I didn't even notice this was happening. If that's when it was happening. It doesn't matter when it was happening, I didn't see it! I'm a terrible friend, I let Buffy down. I let Tara down. I failed Dawnie.

"Was it money?" Anya finally pieced things together.

"Is everything in this world related to money with you?" Willow snapped.

"Theft often is." Anya snapped back, ill at ease.

"My sister's not a thief!" Buffy hissed, even though she knew it wasn't true.

"I am. I mean- I was. I'm not! Anymore..." She let Tara stroke her hair.

In anger and guilt, feeling out of her depth, Buffy's mind began to look for excuses and reasons, explanations. Maybe it happened, all happened, while I was dead. They can't blame me for bad parenting when I'm dead. Right? Oh! What about social services? What if they found out? I can't handle this. It's too much, I need to be there for her, I need to be there for them, look at all of them, different pains and worries. I want Spike. How immature is that? God, I can't rely on him all the time...Her eyes suddenly hardened.

"I can try to tell you what happened." Dawn hesitantly stepped towards her sister.

"I know what happened. Spike happened." Buffy whispered grimly.

"What?" Dawn sounded shocked.

"He taught you it was okay to steal, didn't he? He taught you-"

"No!" Dawn shook her head frantically. She could feel the little family she was hoping for splitting down the seams. "No. Listen to me." She made her voice stop trembling. "Spike taught me to_ earn_ my money, even if it's "gambling". He taught me to _survive_, to deal. To steal if there's no other way to survive, and he always told me-", she gulped down a salty tear, "that there was another way for me. That people were going to be there for me, especially him." Three of her four audience members nodded their understanding and agreement. They had witnessed Spike's transformation from protector and big brother on an occasional basis to protector and big brother as his life's mission, his permanent atonement for not saving her, saving Buffy. Only Buffy looked troubled and uncertain. "How can you doubt him? After- everything?" Dawn demanded. Buffy held out her hands helplessly. "Taking earrings is _not _survival, okay?"

Sensing this was about to branch off into many tangents, a lot of them private and personal, Buffy's issues with trusting Spike, etc, Tara stepped in. "We believe you Dawnie. All of us know, when we think," she gazed hard and deep at Buffy, "that Spike has always made it very clear that he wants the best for you, and that he believes you can do things. He would never teach you it was okay to steal, especially not for fun. Maybe once he would have, but not- not after this summer." Tara's voice wavered but steadied as Willow placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "So tell us why."

Buffy bit her lip. That should have been my speech. Tara's more mom than I will ever be. And leaping to blame Spike- God after all he did for all of us. For me. Making this life bearable for me, I still blamed him. But I still love him, and I _know_ I can trust him with Dawn. I'm a terrible girlfriend. And I'm standing here, wallowing in my own stupid thoughts- and Dawn needs me.

"Wait." Buffy held up her hand. "I just- before you start- Dawn, I'm sorry, If this is my fault. And I'm sorry I said that about Spike. He might be the big bad- but he's never been anything but helpful to you. I do see that, I- I panicked."

Tara gave the teen the shove, and she flew the three steps into Buffy's arms, which were not waiting, but quickly, instinctively, knew what to do. "You don't hate me? You won't leave again?"

"I'll never leave again. Not when I have a choice." Buffy whispered._ And I mean that now. _She hugged Dawn tightly to her.

Dawn pulled herself together. "I just wanted you to notice me. All of you, but mainly you- Buffy. Everyone thought of me as just your little sister, someone to tolerate, and then I was a _key_. Some _thing. _Not some_ one. _I wanted you to notice me. I tried everything else- and then- I just picked up a pair of Anya's earrings one day. It was so easy. And it made me- _me,_ you know? Dawn- the crafty little cat burglar. The opposite of you, Ms. Perfect. But I still hoped you'd notice. Any attention from the coolest super hero in the world- that's good attention."

"So it _is_ my fault." Buffy blinked.

"No! It's no one's fault but mine." Dawn shrugged bravely.

"Was it- after you mom passed, Honey?" Tara asked, and Dawn nodded. "A lot of people go through these stages in grief-"

"I was being stupid, and I knew it." Dawn cut her off. She was like Buffy. Like Spike. They screwed up, but they were honest about it. Okay, she was like Spike, but she was still brave, like her sister. "I'm sorry. I didn't take anything when you were- gone." Dawn smiled tremulously. "But then when you came back- you weren't really here. You still didn't notice me. And I started again. But you're back now. For real. You look at me again. You look at me like you see _me_. I'm not just a thing you died for, as part of your job. I'm not just- the key that killed you." Dawn gulped and ended her long confession in a whisper.

"Dawnie... Dawn, no, Sweetie, you never..." Buffy sniffled into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

Willow pointed to the door. Anya moved towards the bed, wanting to inspect for Magic Box merchandise and any more of her items, but Tara rolled her eyes and mouthed "Later." The sisters were left alone.

"I didn't mean not to look at you. I never blamed you. Dawnie, I just- hurt so bad inside." Buffy wiped away her own tears and her sister's at the same time.

"I didn't know- about heaven then. Not until a couple days before you went to Cliffside. And then you came back and looked at me again. Buffy- you can't blame Spike for stuff. He helped you. I know you probably did most of it yourself, but all I wanted was you to come back and love me again, so I wouldn't be the only one left in the family." Dawn convulsed suddenly. "The only one left, a-and he was there for me, for everyone. And now he's there for you. Don't you see that?"

"I do, Sweetie, I do. But it takes time. This world- Dawn, it's like someone remade me. I have all the same memories, I have all the same skills, but it's like I don't know how to use them anymore. I go through motions like I remember doing things, but I don't even know if they're right. But I'll keep trying. If you keep trying? And I already know what you want to ask, yes, Spike will keep trying, too."

"He's going to be so pissed at me." Dawn laughed weakly.

"Honey- he probably murdered enough people to make up the population of Sunnydale in his life as vampire. I doubt if he'll get mad because you took a little bit of jewelry."

"You still don't get it." Dawn shook her head vehemently. "This isn't about what bad things he_ did_! It's about the good things he _does_! He saved the world with you once, right? He helped save me once, and he tried to save you. He might be a badass, but he's someone I want to be like. The good things. And so not the hair. But he never hurts anyone or does something 'bad' unless he has to. He doesn't have a soul, but he's trying to be a good man. Do you get how hard that is? He has to learn everything you take for granted. Maybe I have a soul, maybe I don't." Dawn smiled grimly. "But I did know this was wrong, and wasn't to stay alive, and I did it anyway. I know sometimes Spike still takes things for the heck of it, little tiny things, like my keychain. He has a demon inside! He has to slip sometimes. I'm a girl, I don't have any evil mumbo jumbo in me, tugging at me to do things."

Buffy was silent for a minute. Where did this eloquent little girl come from? From being forced to grow up so fast. From surviving. From all of her friends, but this understanding about souls, and actions- that was from Spike. "You really care what he thinks." Dawn nodded her head hard, twice. "More than me?" Buffy asked hesitantly.

"I was afraid you wouldn't _love _me anymore. I'm scared he'll be _mad_ at me. Now tell me whose opinion I'm more worried about." Dawn crossed her arms.

"You can screw up every day until you die. I'll love you each day, even if I forget how to show it." Buffy whispered. "It's just a part of me now. Loving Dawn. That's a part of me."

"And loving Spike?" Dawn pushed the envelope.

Time to be brave. To live in this world. "I love him." Buffy shook her head woefully. "I tried not to, but he's stubborn. And persuasive." She admitted.

"Thank God he is! And you tried _not _to love him? You're an i_diot!_"

"Well- well you're a sticky fingers." Buffy shot back with a little gasp of indignation.

"You're stuck up." Dawn stuck her tongue out.

"Klepto." Buffy returned the gesture.

"Ice princess." Dawn put her nose in the air.

"Juvie." Buffy dangled a pair of earrings, price tag still on, in Dawn's direction.

Dawn ended the insult exchange with a breath draining hug. "My sister's back!"

"What in hell is goin' on?" Spike, having pushed his way past three protesting females, shouted outside the door. "Heard cryin' an' thuddin' heartbeats an' other crap. Let me in, Niblet."

"Come in, Spike." Dawn grinned over Buffy's shoulder.

Spike came in and froze. "I expected to find somethin' more dire than cleaning out your jewelry box happenin'." He confessed when he saw the pile of things on the bed.

"Buffy- could you give me a minute?" Dawn wiped her eyes and looked like she was steeling herself.

"You want me to _go_?" Buffy asked incredulous.

"Just for a minute." Dawn insisted.

"Okay." Buffy left, and fought the urge to listen outside the door. Instead, she went into her room and left the door open, sitting on her bed and thinking.

"I stole stuff. Not a lot. But not for a good reason- well, it _seemed _like a good reason at the time. Not for survival though, and not because I felt any evil-y mystical 'key stuff' happening." Dawn pushed all the items that still had price tags into his cupped hands.

Spike blinked. Well, well. This explains my lighter going missing as a diversion that one night. Knew she had light fingers. An' it's prolly bloody heard to steal things without super speed or a century of practice not gettin' caught. He was so proud. Like a tom purring over his kitten's first kill. He pushed that emotion down heavily. That wasn't the kind of life he wanted for her. For either girl he loved. The spark of pride was replaced by disappointment.

"What'd you need, Luv?" He looked at the pile in this palms. "Somethin' I couldn't have gotten for you?"

"No. I wanted- I wanted everyone to treat me like a person, good or bad, but a real, live, person. To pay attention to me, see me, Me, a person. Not a _thing_." She bit her lip and looked up at him. "A-are you mad at me?"

"You think I don't know what this lot is like? Been treated like a _thing_ for my entire time in Sunnydale, minus about a month. An' minus you. Of course I'm not mad at you, you silly chit. You treated me like a person from the get go." He let out a single dry chuckle.

"I had a massive crush on you- duh."

"Yeah, I know. That's worn off now, right?" He asked in sudden panic, mentally running a tape on fast forward of all the times they had held each other and cried, or she'd curled up close to him.

"_So_ yes. You're too moody."

"Oi!"

"And the hair...sorry. Not my type."

"I will bite you in a minute!"

"Like to see you try. I'll get the aspirin ready, huh?"

"Oh, shut up, girl." He gave up and laughed.

"Back to this," Dawn poked the jewelry that now lay spread on the dresser top as they stood beside it. "Everyone stopped treating me like a 'thing' after Glory lost, but then when Buffy came back- it was like she never even saw I was here. I wanted to make her notice, even if it meant her getting mad at me, but then she'd _be_ here. Not just looking like she was here. It'd be no fun, but a person who gets mad at you is at least aware you're there, right?"

He nodded. Why hadn't he figured she'd try somethin' like that? He thought- well maybe he'd thought his company made up for Buffy's lack of interest in the last few months. How could he have thought that? He knew first hand what it was like to love her so much, that every second you were with her, that she was wishing she was somewhere else felt like a slap in the face. At least until you learned where she'd been. Then it hurt in a whole different way..."So you did it to get big sis's attention?"

"Well, I didn't know about the ripped out of heaven thing! If I had- I probably would have worried more about her, not so much about me. I feel dumb. I feel like Buffy. Oh, ew." She shook her head and sighed. "Again with the 'are you mad at me'?"

"D'you know how many stupid things I've done to get your sister's attention? Tell you right now that one involved kidnappin' her for about three hours. And some of the other stuff, Niblet... Not so bad, but thoroughly obnoxious. _Real_ obnoxious." He smiled fondly. I was king of pissing her off, makin' her mad, seein' the sparkle and fire in her eyes... "Didn't work though." He shook himself out of his memories. He liked the fire in her eyes to be triggered by love now. "That girl is the most stubborn I've ever met. You're a close second."

"We're a perfect family!" Dawn whined slightly. "Three incredibly stubborn people!"

"That's my opinion, Bit, but she needs more time. An' right now, I imagine she's none too thrilled with the thought of me bein' here, corruptin' you further." He took out a smoke. "Mind?"

"I'll put the window up." Dawn did, and he sat on the sill, one leg over, the other leg in, puffing into the night air.

"She's gotta blame me for this. You know that, right? Not even her fault, she's gotta have somethin' to blame. If she doesn't blame me, she's blamin' herself."

"That's true. But both things are wrong. I'm a grown up- almost. I get the blame. No one else." Dawn opened her door. "Buffy, can you come-" Buffy bumped into her before she could finish, "here?." Dawn rolled her eyes and muttered "super speed".

"What's wrong?"

"Tell Spike that you do not, and will not, blame him for my actions."

"What?"

"Do it." Dawn poked her sister sharply in the back.

"Don't ask her to lie, Bit." Spike gave a wan smile at Buffy.

"I'm not. I'm asking her to see the truth." Dawn pleaded with her sister. "You know what I did was wrong, and you know why I did it."

She did it to get my attention. To make me look at her, see her. Spike always saw her, the real her. It's not his fault at all. And maybe if I'd let him in earlier, let Dawn have someone there for her, this wouldn't have happened... "It's not your fault. Not your fault at all. It's mine." Buffy rested her head back against the wall.

"No, Luv-" Spike's voice was gentle. Dawn's was not.

"No! It was not. My fault. Mine. Me. A human who's not a key, and not a kid. I. Did. Something. Wrong. For. The. Wrong. Reasons." Dawn punctuated each word with a slap of her slender hand on the wall next to Buffy's head. "Treat me like I'm here! Like I'm real! I can screw up, I can miss you, I can be mad at you, I can love you, I can help you! Dammit!"

Spike had never heard Dawn lay it out like that, not with such ferocity and for once, not whining, and she was makin' a bloody good point. And Buffy was getting it. She was shocked, but the shock was slowly being replaced by realization. The kid was her baby sister, but she was no baby anymore.

"You're right. You messed up. But it's okay. We all mess up." Buffy stroked her sister's hair. "We _own_ messing up."

Spike was so proud of her. Both of them, for different reasons. "Well done! Well done, B-"He took his hands off the sill to applaud- and promptly fell backward out of the window, tumbling across the flat, slightly slanted roof before regaining his balance and crawling back in, broken cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. "Don't. Laugh." He growled, looking up at them as he managed to get back in, less than gracefully.

They laughed. He sighed and cursed softly. Then Bit hugged him. Then Buffy. He knew it wouldn't last, so he hugged 'em back, hard and fast.

That family feeling again, God, just hold onto them both for one second because it won't be long... Buffy bashed her head into his shoulder desperately, fingers tightening on Dawn's arm as well.

Sure enough, in thirty seconds or less, the entire household crowded into the doorway of Dawn's room, Giles in the forefront. "We heard this tremendous crash!"

"I-uh- fell." Spike threw the cigarette out the window after snuffing it out.

"Where?" Willow demanded.

"Never mind." Buffy took charge. "We need to go eat pie. The Midnight Madness doesn't start until- well- midnight, but the stores open at 10. We could get in, get our mental shopping route planned and be in and out in a few hours."

"Must be some female thing." Xander muttered after hearing the words "mental shopping route". "Sounds good. Pie me."

"A-are we still shopping?" Dawn asked hesitantly.

"Where can't you go?" Spike asked bluntly, ignoring the puzzled looks of Xander and Giles.

"Piercing Prima Donna. Cindy's. A couple other places. All little girly shops."

"Well, thank God for that, right, Bit?" Spike smiled.

"Pfft! Who needs earrings and accessories?" Willow waved her hand. "I have coupons for the bookstore."

"So, that's settled. We'll go get the pie ready. Dawn, Xander, Giles- stay up here for a minute. Talk." Buffy shooed everyone else from the room. "Oh- and before you say anything to Dawn about what she's going to tell you- two things." She fixed Giles with a steely stare. "Ripper." She turned her gaze to Xander. "High school." Then with a much softer look, she turned to Dawn. "They're ready to hear any amount of stupid mistakes now. I love you."

She walked out, closing the door softly, only to find herself in Spike's arms. "Hey!"

"Shh. What you said to her, what you did in there... I know you think you're lackin' in the parent department. But even parents miss a few things. You did a bloody brilliant job tonight. You're my girl. An' I'm proud of you."

She let him hold her like that, kiss her, her feet steering him backwards towards her room, so they wouldn't be seen in such a passionate embrace. "You helped her so much. She was never that good with words before, never stood up to me without having a hissy fit. She's getting to be a grown up." Buffy muttered between kisses, feeling herself get wetter as he held her close, his thighs brushing on hers. "You were good for confidence, Spike. I see the way she acts with you. I'm- I'm so glad you've been there for her."

"Yes Luv, me, too." He felt his jeans become more uncomfortable by the second. She was all cuddly and soft just now, and- her room. Breakin' all kinds of rules...

"We can't." She whispered when his hand started to smooth itself over the crotch of her pants.

"Not even just to touch you?" He breathed.

Yes, hell yes, let him touch you. He's the best you've ever been with, the one you love the most of any, admit it to him or not. You're all confused and he'll comfort you, you'll comfort him, you know he was worried and upset. Just like you were. "No, Dawn's right next door."

"I won't-"

"No. We can't." And there was more. "Spike- I didn't even know this was happening with her. I need to be here more. Here more, for her."

"What are you tellin' me, Luv?"

"I can't sleep over like I have been." His fingers left her slowly. "I can't keep missing these things."

"What about patrol?" He asked.

"I still have to go."

"And when you get home, shouldn't she be tucked up?"

"Yes..."

"So you want to not miss her bein' asleep?"

She flushed hotly. It seemed like the right thing to do. To deny her needs for Dawn's sake. She knew he'd done it plenty. "I don't want to be selfish. Not with her."

"Couldn't you patrol a bit later? After she's in bed? An' then we'd still have some time together." He whispered. I don't want to be selfish either, not with her, with either of them. But damned if I'm gonna lose this...

It scared her, realizing she was in here with him, making plans, like he was a permanent part of her life, her routine. Brave again. Brave again. She chanted to herself. "That's a good compromise. Couples compromise." She looked up at him again, looked at his relieved smile, and how close they were to the bed. How wet she felt and how hard he must be. And she was still going to walk out of here without letting him get any closer. "I warned you I was bad at being a girlfriend, right?"

"You made that disclaimer, an' I b'lieve you punched me a lot as well."

"You don't mind?"

"I didn't say_ that._ Did say you'd have to thank me later." He smirked.

"You did not!" She was flushing, he was getting closer to her, how was that possible, to get closer to her than he already was, without being inside her? Ohh, bad thought. Or was it a good thought? No, definitely bad! Not in here.

"Well, I added it in." He kissed her hard, hand touching her there again, softly teasing the apex of her legs. "You gonna let me in, Baby?"

"Quick patrol before malling?" She gasped, arching into his hand.

"Huh?" He felt his fingers pushed away.

"C'mon. Pie, quick patrol, back here to shop." She looked at him hard. "I mean patrol in quote marks." She blushed.

"Oh. Oh! Well- I um- I gotta get my spendin' money, left it at the crypt." He added with his own flush, not of shyness but of lust. "Spendin' money's in quote marks ,too."

"Let me check with Dawn first?"

"I agree." He meant it.

Dawn all but shoved them out the front door, making them promise up and down that they would be back by ten minutes of ten or she would force feed them green bean casserole until they barfed. Making excuses about his money, and Buffy saying she did feel like a quick patrol, they left. Both them were okay with it, knowing Dawn felt better, less guilty, more loved than she had in weeks because everyone forgave her. And then they were all sitting around and telling 'stupid mistakes I've made' stories. Dawn would have blackmail material for years.

"I'm kinda sorry to miss this." Spike said as they left the house, listening to Tara start her story. "Plenty of dirt to be had."

"Dawn'll tell you everything. But we could always go back in if you want..."

"Go back in and listen to gums flappin', or take you to my bed and ravish you? Hmm. Race you." And he flew off, knowing she could catch him, prob'ly beat him.

She didn't catch him until the cemetery, but that was because she was about to die from pumpkin pie overdose. "Oooh. Ohh. Cramp. No sprinting with full stomach." She moaned, slumping against him.

"I'll make it all better." He purred.

She protested, she looked faintly green, but he didn't care. Once she was distracted...

"No lying down. No lying down yet." She sat up on his bed. "Pie will not stay down if I go down."

He laughed and sat beside her. "No rush. No lyin' down required either." He nuzzled her. "An' no makin' love is required." His hands brushed her hair back and then slid slowly down her sides, the heels of his hands grazing the sides of her breasts.

"I want to though." She breathed out. "I love you."

"I love you." He still thrilled, probably would forever thrill, when she said that to him. "But doesn't have to be me inside you, you on top of me, to count. Just has to feel good for us."

"I want to make you feel good." She whispered, and he thrilled again. His hand delved between her thighs again, this time more insistently, since they were alone.

"Open up, Baby." And this time she did.

"Open up a little more, Luv, and I'll get the best sight in the entire world." He gasped a short time later.

Buffy moving slowly up and down on him, obeyed. And blushed. The best sight in the world was... that part of her? She blushed harder, her whole skin must be pink.

"No. That's not the best sight in the world, that alone." Spike grinned and read her thoughts. "Although, bloody hell, woman- it- makes it hard to hold on."

"So who says you have to hold on?" She giggled, and squeezed him inside, leaning back a little, opening more.

"I do." He growled. "Until you let go, I hold on."

"Mm, such a thoughtful guy." She pumped down on him harder and faster.

"That's the best sight. _That._" He pointed, ragged breaths coming out as he struggled not to cum just yet. He surveyed the sight of his swelling hardness, sheathed deep inside her,sliding smoothly in and out, while her head was thrown back, and then forward in bliss. "You an' me, joined together, while you smile at me. While you love me." His hips rocked off the bed, and she let out a whimpering moan.

"Love you. Love you, Spike!" She screamed when she released, and he burst. Not from watching her, not from the mind numbing pleasure of her incredible muscles. It was the words.

_She loves me..._

Two in the morning. Tara, Willow, Dawn, Buffy, and Spike piled out of the Jeep, looking like refugees from some incredibly commercial third world country, with hands full of shopping bags, clothes rumpled and hair mussed, staggering sleepily.

"I was in a few mob brawls in my time. Never knew you could have 'em over the last set of Big Bird slippers." Spike grinned, and pushed his bags out of Niblet's snooping range.

"I can't believe you elbowed an old lady to get that perfume." Tara shook her head at Willow incredulously.

"It's Anya's favorite, and it's the only little $10.00 bottle they had." Willow said defensively.

"We need to sleep. Now. So very now." Buffy limped in, holding one broken boot in her hand. "Stupid escalators." She tossed the pair into the trash with a sigh.

"I'll be headin' out then. See you at Demon Girl's holiday, the Feast of the Dollar, in about six hours." Spike stretched. He touched Buffy's hand and she clasped his, their fingers slowly tightening, moving their bodies closer and closer-

"Why don't you make up the cot in the basement? Or sleep on the couch?" Dawn chirped, ignoring Buffy's panic stricken look. "You used to do that sometimes, don't you remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, but-" Spike looked at the four faces watching him. Only one he put first, above the rest. And she looked like she was about to be thrown to the wolves. "-but I don't wanna overstay my welcome."

Willow watched their hands tangle and untangle once more. She remembered holding Tara's hand like that. The only closeness they could exchange in public... at first. They wanted one another so much. They loved each other, and yet she'd been so scared of what her friends would say. Tara was patient, and giving. Spike- well, he was not the poster boy for patient, but giving, and letting Buffy heal, slowly, not trying to force her through- that was just like Tara. "Please stay. On the couch." Willow heard her tongue trip clumsily over the words.

"Y-you have to be with us again in a few hours." Tara hastily assisted her lover. "If you overstay your welcome- we'll blame Anya." Everyone laughed at that.

"I'll get the sheets." Dawn bounded off, far too energetic for this time of night, her older friends thought.

"Let's put our bags away. No peeking! Or yours goes back to the store!" Willow held her bags far above her head, out of the range of Tara's playfully scanning eyes.

"Um." Buffy looked up at him once they were alone. He rubbed the back of his neck with a shrug.

"I don't have to. If I do- I'll be stayin' down here. Not up there." He assured her softly.

"I'm not afraid of you coming up to see me." Buffy confessed._ Well, I am, but not now... _"I'm afraid I'll come down here to see _you_."

All night he burned for her. He had to leave once, go smoke, go take care of his burn himself, he couldn't control it. She was there. And she was soaked. He could smell her arousal from the ground floor. Only because he actively searched for it, he was looking for it, tormenting himself more and more. Sweet bloody torture.

She didn't sleep. She hurt so bad inside, aching for him. But she would not go to him. If she did, they'd win the award for indecent exposure, or she'd bring him to this bed- and it would all fall apart. This room was meant for one girl. One Slayer, always alone. She'd tried to bring Riley in, and he'd left her sleeping in it, off in pursuit of fresh thrills, for vampires to bite him. Left her after making love, and never came back after she'd discovered the truth. She wasn't trying hard enough, not trying hard enough to love him, she had to force herself to feel.

Now she did feel, Felt truly, for Spike, painful and strange as it was. It was getting easier all the time, she kept trying harder and harder, earning rewards every day that made it worth it.

But not this bed. This bed was the monument to letting someone in, someone just for comfort's sake, and never pushing past that. Where people realize you'll never give them all they need and leave you. The monument to where trying ended and failing started. _This won't fail. I won't let it fail._

_But how can it not fail- if I refuse to let him in?_

Her footsteps were like siren's calls to his ear. "We can't go up there. We can't make love here." She whispered in greeting, as if knowing he was already awake, as if knowing he'd never been to sleep at all.

"Okay, Luv, 'S fine. Not pressin' you."

"Scoot over. I wanted to be with you. Down here, just holding you? I know it's like putting your hand in the fire-"

"But fire freezes you, Pet."

"I know. And you're my ice. Ice- ice melts me, Spike." She pressed up beside him on the couch, as soon as he move over.

"I know. I want you, too. Jus' as bad."

"I can feel that." She didn't laugh. It made her hurt, that ache. When you need someone you love. "Do you have that pain? The one when you need the person you love?"

"Yeah, Pet, it hurts. But it's fading now." She rubbed him once.

"No, it isn't."

"Well no, not _that _part. An' it won't, not with you so close." She began to move and he held her fast. "My body can deal with a little pain. My heart is happy."

"Mine's healing." She felt herself relax. Not sexually, that wasn't gonna happen. Not when she was so close to him. But his presence soothed her. He kept the bad from her, always had, since the first night he'd held her to keep the nightmares away.

"What about your friends?"

"We're both dressed. We're not going to go farther than this, not here, not now. Not where Dawn could walk down for a midnight snack and end up in therapy for ten years." That cooled them both off considerably, and they shared a wry smile. "They'll understand. It was their idea."

"Yeah. It was." He let her snuggle down deeper into him, suppressing a groan of pleasurable discomfort. She came to _me_ tonight. Told me she wanted to hold me. Her. Holding me. Not for anything but just because she loves me.

_She loves me..._

"That was sweet. Your offer to Spike." Tara whispered in the darkness, snuggling closer to Willow. She made a sleepy noise of agreement. "I didn't think you'd do that, Honey. You seem... a little hesitant about the two of them sometimes."

"I was remembering. I don't know how much they've done. Intimacy wise. Probably a lot, but I don't want to think about Buffy like that." Willow ran a hand over her tired eyes. "But I remember what it's like. When the only thing in the world you want is to kiss this beautiful person you love- and you can't because you're scared that the people you love will suddenly abandon you. Like they never loved you at all, just because all the sudden you're with someone they didn't expect." She sniffled suddenly. "And you waited for me to get over myself."

"Sweetie, you had so much to lose, I understood." Tara comforted.

"But I know what it's like. That... desire. It's life changing. You can see it in their hands, the way it hurts to let go of one another. I screwed her life up enough, Baby, I don't want to deny her this. I want to help her. Spike's her Tara."

"I'm a vamp with a bad dye job?" Tara didn't mean to laugh, she could hear the tears and strain in Willow's voice as she recalled everything that had happened in the past two years, with them, their relationship, with Buffy...

"You told me to be with the one that makes me happy. You were letting me go, because you loved me. He let her go, because he loved her. When she came back, he waited for her. Just like you waited for me to get my head out of my butt and realize everything I ever wanted isn't in some magic spell, it's in you."

"You're my everything. I t-told you that. That you make me complete." Tara let Willow pull her lips to hers. "You're my redheaded wonder, my girl."

"I want Buffy to have that. Complete. Whole. Healed. She'll never get it until she lets him in all the way."

"That might take a long time for her, Sweetie. She's had so much to deal with. I don't think any of us will ever know how much. You told me she had to kill her one lover, Angel, and he fought his way back through hell for her- and she still couldn't have him? That he left her after that? That _has_ to mess up her perception about love and trusting a guy. About loving anyone."

"I know. I know it did. I think, really, that it messed up all of us, all the Scoobies, watching love crash and burn like that." Willow sighed and caressed Tara's long blonde silky strands. "Sometimes you have to take a little leap, right? Be brave?"

"Yeah. Strong. Strong like an Amazon."

A pause. A breath. A blurt."Will you live with me?"

"I do live with you." Tara blinked.

"I don't want to be part of Buffy's family- I mean I do. But I want Spike to be her other half, if that's what she wants. I don't want to stand in her way." She rolled over, trapping Tara's head between her hands, looking more deeply into her smoky eyes. "But more importantly, I don't want anything to stand in _our _way. I want it to be you and I. I want you to be with me. In our own place. Be my...family?"

Tara gasped, and blinked, this time a tear escaping with the lowering of her lids. "Yes. Always."

"Buffy can handle this place once her work study starts in January. If she can't, we'll find ways to help. Spike won't let her down. You'd never let me down, he won't let her and Dawn down. January first, I want to be ready to leave, or be set up in a place with you. I want to start the new year by starting my new life. With my girl."

"My girl." Tara kissed her smile. "Is this a formal offer?"

"As formal as I can ever make it. Do you have a formal answer?"

"Yes."

"Okay..." Willow waited chewing her inner cheek.

"No. Th-that was my formal answer, Honey. Yes."

"Oh. Oh!" Willow sat up in bed, flicking the lamp on. "You mean it?"

Tara lay there and laughed up at her. Her crazy, funny, sassy, smart Willow, in her crumpled yellow pajamas, with her wide smile and her bright eyes. "I mean it. Yes. I will be with you, in your new life. In o-our new home. Together. As a family."

"I love you, Baby."

"I love you." Tara reached across and turned the lights back out.

_She loves me..._


	11. Chapter 11

Desire

by Sweetprincipale

_Author's Note: This is a sequel to " A Model Romance". Please make sure you've read that first, or this story doesn't make a lot of sense. This picks up immediately where the last chapter of "A Model Romance" ends._

_Set after "Once More with Feeling", and then goes off canon. Includes some canonical events, but with a twist. For example, in "A Model Romance", Willow and Tara reconcile and Willow doesn't perform the spell that causes the events of "Tabula Rasa" to unfold. In "Desire", Spike and Buffy have caught and jailed the "Trio" and therefore many of the tragic events that occurred in the series have changed for the better._

_Dedicated to: Lithium Reaper, Hannah the Bloody, Spirited Ghost, Idiosyncratic Delusions, Amiradanielle, Msnycegirl0820, somethinginthewayful, and Good For the Soul._

_Direct quotes from songs, shows, or other materials are obviously not mine, but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. _

_Reviews please!_

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincerest admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XI

Willow slipped downstairs at 6:30. She knew she would be exhausted by the end of the day, and she hadn't gotten much sleep- but it didn't matter. Tara was going to be hers. Hers, hers, hers, permanently, because she loved her, and breakfast in bed was in order.

Her fuzzy slippered feet scuffed noiselessly to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. On the couch, Buffy lay huddled in Spike's arms, head cradled in the hollow of his neck. So peaceful. Both of them serene. At peace- resting in peace. Willow gulped hard. She _should _be resting in peace, heaven holding her safely- but in the meantime, her softened expression of contentment came from lying in Spike's arms. And that, in a really creepy way, was Buffy's needed reminder of heaven, her heaven substitute. She gave a loud sigh and bustled softly to the kitchen and got leftover pie and toasted rolls- foods she could prepare without waking the sweetly entangled pair on the couch.

Buffy woke up just in time to see Willow smiling dreamily at her as she turned and headed up the stairs with something in her hands. Blinking a couple times, Buffy squirmed- and realized she was cuddled in Spike's embrace. "Crap."

" 'Smatter, Luv?" Spike muttered softly, hands instantly seeking to fondle the warm package he held. Then he opened his eyes. "Oh. Right."

"Willow just saw us."

"That's okay, right? Didn't have my hands in your knickers or anything did I?"

"No! Of course not. And I don't wear 'knickers' under my jammies anyway." She immediately wished she hadn't shared that piece of information when Spike growled and whimpered at the same time- a noise she didn't even know he could make. "Sorry?" She apologized hesitantly.

"Already hard for you all the time." He whispered. "But knowing there's nothing between your hot little puss and me but this little piece of fabric- mmm. Doesn't exactly soothe the savage breast."

"Beast."

"It was breast originally- but that isn't the point. You better get off me, Luv, before I unzip-" he was speaking in a sultry whisper now, "pull your pjs down just over your sweet cheeks, and split you open."

She made a nose between a whimper and a grunt of lust- another sound she was surprised to hear. "Damn, tempting vampire." She muttered and rolled to her knees, sinking on to the floor and peering into his eyes as he remained on the couch. "I'm sorry we can't."

"No. No, it's okay. Don't want Niblet to find us like that. An' the birds are already flyin' upstairs."

"Willow didn't look mad or worried. She actually- looked kinda happy."

"They look- beautiful together." Willow whispered to her lover. Her partner. Her official partner. Her family. "I wish- I honestly do, that they'd- _you know_. Give in a little?"

"Maybe they haven't." Tara blushed. "I know Spike doesn't have a soul, but he has a goodness in him- whatever you'd like to call it, something makes him good, besides just the chip. Maybe Buffy's afraid that going all the way with him will push him over the edge, like Angel."

"I don't think that's it entirely." Willow chewed her thumb. "I think she's having a hard time with all of us being here, in and out, and Dawn. You know she feels pressure to be responsible, be a 'mom' now. That probably doesn't leave a lot of room for smoochies with Spike, between feeling trapped by her own fears, worried about our feelings on the subject, plus having the house full all the time."

"Do you want to tell her- a-about our plans? That might help her feel better. Know that we're moving on, and she can, too?"

"We'll tell her. Maybe not in front of Spike or Dawn though. In case the conversation drifts into smoochie territory. I don't want Dawnie to hear about that, and I- I can't talk about that in front of Spike. He smirks too damn much. I always feel like he's undressing everything with his eyes."

"Really? Everyone?" Tara blushed deeper, and pulled her covers up.

"Not anymore. Just Buffy." The pair shared a grin. " 'Cause no one sees these beauties but me, right, Sweetie?" Willow nuzzled into the soft bosom Tara was hiding under the sheet.

"Mm, Willow. Only for Willow." Tara agreed with a breathless giggle.

Dawn and Spike were bleary eyed and crashed on the couch, a mug of blood in his hand, a half eaten bagel in hers. "Not enough sleep." Dawn grumbled.

"I know." Spike mindlessly offered his cup. "It helps."

"Coffee?" Dawn reached for it.

"Oh, shit, no, that's blood." He pulled it back, eyes suddenly opening wide. "Slayer! Can a bloke an' a Bit get some coffee?" He shouted up the stairs.

"Make it yourself! I'm trying to find something that says 'I know nothing, but I'm polite, please buy things.' I don't have a lot of clothes geared towards customer service."

"I'll make it, Spike." Dawn pushed herself wearily to her feet, and he followed her.

"I'll come with. Don't want the house burned down."

"Jerk."

"Snack pack." He smiled, and she smiled back.

Willow bumped into Buffy as they both headed towards the bathroom. "Hey, Buffy. I-um- I wanted to tell you something." Willow brushed her elbow. "If you're not in a hurry?"

"Nah. Besides, sounds like Tara's drying her hair. What's up?" Buffy mentally went through a list of possible bad things Willow could say, all hinging on catching her and Spike snuggled up on the sofa. That was probably a shock. I mean, Spike on the couch, okay, people can deal. Her _with_ Spike on the couch, looking all lovey-dovey, probably way less dealable.

"Tara and I would like to move out. Around New Year's. Get our own place, together." Willow waited for her friend to squeal or smile.

Buffy felt it all cracking. The carefully glued together image that Spike was trying to help her build- slayer and woman, meshed. " Because of Spike?" She asked softly, hoarsely.

Okay, not the reaction she'd hoped for, but maybe it was coming slowly to the surface, realizations and reasons needed to process. Willow decided to give credit where credit was due. "Yes, the two of you."

My best friend. Leaving me. Taking my other good friend with her. Because they can't accept him. Us. They thought they could. They tried and failed. Her spine stiffened. _I don't fail. If I have to die to finish the job- I do it. _"Well, that's just too bad, Will." Buffy hissed, voice in a low, violent register that made Willow retreat a step.

"Did you hear that?" Spike abruptly stopped measuring grounds into the coffee maker.

"Hear what?" Dawn yawned.

"Jus' a minute, Platelet." He pushed past her gently and walked slowly to the living room, ear cocked. There was an angry Slayer somewhere. Could smell her blood heating to dangerous levels, hear her voice switch off of Buffy setting and onto something more vicious.

"You couldn't handle it could you? Do you think I'm going to choose if you give me an ultimatum?"

What happened? Buffy brain short out? Maybe it was too much dinner, not enough sleep. Willow shook her head, eyes widening in confusion. "Buffy, we never-"

"No, no one ever! No one thinks I might just do something because I want to. Because I need something, or I love something. I'm not choosing! You don't have to see me with him, but he stays in my life!"

From his place halfway up the stairs, Spike gasped and reeled. She couldn't have said that. Could she? _Stop feelin' so bloody lighthearted, you ponce, can't you hear there's a problem, that she's riled?_

"Buffy, when I saw you last night-"

"I'm not in the mood, Willow!" Buffy's voice crashed out.

"What's wrong?" Tara appeared from the bathroom, hair half dried and hanging limp.

"What's wrong?" Dawn trotted up behind Spike who shushed her and put a hand out behind him to stop her from advancing.

"I thought you guys supported me!" Buffy's voice flared louder. "Have a double date, do something normal- wh-what? What couldn't you handle? He's not the greatest guy in the world- but he's the greatest guy to me!"

Spike heard the rage giving way to tears, Buffy's sudden stammer and impassioned praise of him pounding in his ears like a call to battle. He began to storm up, so much for discretion and just listenin'. "What the bloody hell is happenin'?"

"A little misunderstanding. Buffy- please listen. And this needs to be private, just you and Tara and me? Please, trust me- it really_ is_ a misunderstanding." Willow kept her voice steady. "Buffy- have I ever been one to give you a hard time over guys?"

Buffy took in a deep breath- and then a puzzled look hit her face. "No."

"See?" Willow rolled her eyes. "Panic much?"

"Scare me much?" Buffy rolled her eyes right back.

"What's going on?" Dawn demanded, stomping her feet.

"Come on, Sweetie. Let's go make everyone some coffee and pie real quick." Tara took Dawn's arm. "We'll talk later, I promise." She managed to pry the suspicious teen away, but Spike still stood, the image of sinister protection. She hesitantly reached out and tapped his arm. They both jumped, and she drew her hand away quickly. "Spike? W-would you like some coffee?"

"Uh- yes." He blinked. Someone besides Dawn had touched him. And not in a violent manner. Or a treating the wounded manner. Or a "tying you up because we don't trust you" manner. He was still getting used to that, but decided it was quite good in its way. "If you're okay, Luv?" He checked with Buffy first.

"I'm okay. For now." She gave him a half grin and he slowly walked down stairs.

_She chose me. Well- she didn't choose either them, or me. She's keepin' us all. That's my girl._

Willow stood with her arms crossed protectively, while Buffy stood with her hands on her hips in a slowly releasing anger. "What did you mean, when you said it was because of Spike and me?"

Willow took a deep breath. "Don't freak, please. I just saw the way you held hands last night. It's none of my business if you two are making with the smoochies, o-or even if you ever want to. With him. Platonic, or romantic without sex, that's plenty for some people. I've heard-"

"Willow! Stop." Buffy's eyes were widening rapidly. "Don't say- just don't _talk _about sex with Spike. I'm not ready to handle that." _You knowing about it. I'm soo soooooo ready to handle some of it right now. God, I'm soaked..._

"Okay." Willow nodded in relief. "Buffy, when I saw you hold his hand last night when he was about to leave, and neither of you wanted to let go- it reminded me of Tara and I."

"Say what now?" Buffy tilted her head and her eyebrows hit her hairline.

"Tara's like Spike." Willow tried to explain.

_Great. Another crazy person in my house, and this time it's my best friend_. "What the hell is in that sleeping powder Tara made?" Buffy gasped.

"Listen!" Willow blushed and addressed her shoes. "When Tara and I met, I was so happy. I wanted to hold her hand, sometimes I did, but I wanted to do so much more. I wanted to love her, be with her. Show my friends and family that she was my girl. She's like your Spike. You were scared to even hold his hand in font of us. I know what that's like." She swallowed with a tight grin and looked up.

"Oh, Wills. Will, I'm sorry if I made you feel like that!" Buffy took her friend in her arms, understanding empathetically at once. It must have been scary for Willow to show open affection to her lover, it wasn't expected, it wasn't always easily accepted. _I so know what that's like. Ooh! Hey- having an empathy- Buffy moment. Yay for humanness coming back online! _"I never, ever meant to make you feel-"

"You didn't! No one did, not really. Except _me_. All of you accepted me right away. And we should do that for you. Of course with Spike, it's a little different..."

"I know, Will. He's gotta a track record. But-"

"But you love him. Yes, you do, Buffy, and I get it." Willow talked over her friend's panicked squeak. "When I see how you two are together, it makes me realize how lucky I am to have Tara. I don't want to move out because I don't want to watch you being with Spike. I want to move out because I want to spend my life with the woman I love. Like- you know- permanently. The two of us starting out on our own, a couple with our own place. Not in the dorms. A new year. A new life. You made me realize what it means to want someone like that, and do something about it."

"Me?" I am full of love. Death is my gift. Again, Spike, the dead man, and me, our love- the two of us together, we did something good? "Spike and I made you realize you want to make some kind of...commitment- with Tara?"

"Yeah. No! It was in there all along. Seeing you just made me do something about it instead of waiting. Please don't be mad, Buffy..."

"I totally took that the wrongest way I could have, didn't I?" Buffy smiled ruefully at the redhead.

"You did the hundred yard dash of wrongness." Willow nodded. "But to be fair, I kinda sprang it on you and screwed it up when I started telling you."

"What am I gonna do without you, Wills?" Buffy suddenly realized what her friends moving out would mean.

"We'll still have your back! We'll Dawnie sit. We'll come over here some nights, and Dawn can stay over with us sometimes, if you ever want the house to yourself. We won't let you down, Buffy, we won't 'leave'. We'll just be slightly- out of the house?" Willow twisted her hair around one finger in a nervous tug before going back to wringing her hands. "If the money-"

"We'll get by." Spike would help out. If she needed him to. Which she probably wouldn't. She could handle things. "You and Tara? Will it be official? With a ring or a ceremony?"

"I don't know." Willow shrugged and a slow smile came across her face. "I don't care. It doesn't matter." Her cheeks flushed slightly and her eyes sparkled with mists of tears. "Buffy. Someone loves me. Really loves me. For myself. And they won't leave. Not even to solve a problem and come back. She stays."

Buffy felt her own eyes well up. "She really is your 'Spike', then." Both of them laughed, and it dissolved into a weepy, giggly, hug, whispered vows of friendship and pledges to always be there, always support mingled with the teary laughter.

"I got laughin' now. And cryin'. Laughin'...while cryin'." Spike stood at the foot of the stairs, ear cocked heavenward. "What the buggerin' hell...?"

"All good. Girls do that. They laugh and cry. The fight's over and they made up." Dawn translated.

"Thank God for my girl-to-vamp dictionary." Spike kissed the top of her head lightly as she stood below him.

"You guys really, really shouldn't do that." Tara repeated for the tenth time.

"I'm not able to hear anything they _say_, Flower Child, jus' some general impressions." Spike muttered.

"Does everyone have to have a nickname to you, Spike? Is that your way of keeping people at bay, not letting them hurt you?" Tara asked, making Spike jerk his head with a sudden twist.

"No. It's the opposite." Dawn spoke for him, surprising them both. "If he gives you a nickname- he cared enough to think about you, pick out something about you and hold it in his mind. I'm Bit. Because I'm just enough for a snack." She scrunched up her face at him in an impish smile.

"Damn right you are, an' you skive off school anymore an' I'll bloody well have my 'snack'." Spike snarled at her- before kissing the top of her head again. "Would you rather me call you Tara, Luv?"

"No. Not if a nickname is a sign that you care." Tara watched him fumble for a minute. Ha. Called the bluff. He plays it so bad. I wonder how much of "William the Bloody" was an act, how much was just wanting to fit in? Because he doesn't seem like most vampires I've seen or heard about...

Damn smart girl. Insightful and to the point. _Remember I quite liked her once- before she helped rip my Buffy from heaven. Oh, God, what's done is done, an' now I've got her. S'pose I can keep tryin' to accept them, if they keep tryin' to accept me._ "Well- uh. It's kinda both what you said, an' what Niblet said." The boy, he'd never thought of him as much besides "boy". That wasn't to prevent him from getting close, but yeah, he knew the dislike was mutual, and maybe it was better not to think of him as anything but just another boy, a nameless, faceless, male. Rupert was Watcher and Librarian, his jobs- his failures. He needed to do better about that, stick to Rupes, Rupert, or Giles. And Red- well that was like Niblet. One shining characteristic he'd picked out right away, her fiery hair. It was affectionate.

"You like Tara better?" Maybe some people you called as they were called. Like Buffy. No, even Buffy was his Luv, his Pet. Something prized and cherished. But she was still Buffy.

"I think so." Tara smiled softly.

"Then you're Tara." He smiled back.

_He's incredibly handsome when he smiles. He has such human eyes. Human eyes, soft and sharp all at once. No one ever looks past the smirk._ She shook her head and laughed. "Okay, let's get them down here. It's time to- oh, Willow! Willow, we're late!" Tara thundered up the steps. Sensitivity or not, Anya in a capitalistic fury was no fun to behold.

"I can't move." Willow whimpered as she and Tara sat curled together at the bottom of the stairs to the second floor.

"Well, you'd better. We're open Saturday at the regular time, so we need to get the shelves restocked." Anya bustled cheerfully around, kissing Xander on the head, patting Giles on the arm, pinching Dawn's cheek (which she hated) and crooning over the haul they'd taken.

"My feet are bloody stumps." Dawn eased off a sneaker.

"They are not. That would be disgusting." Anya said matter of factly. "Come on, everyone, up and at 'em, restocking!"

"What goes where?" Spike and Buffy trotted up the stairs, still seemingly full of energy. Before Anya could direct them, they heard a soft cough.

"Tara, Willow- would one of you like a job? Part time. A few hours?" Giles offered weakly, slumped at the table in the back.

"Oh. Oh, yes, I think I would." Tara looked hesitantly at Willow. "We might need some more money- soon." She blushed.

"We're getting our own place." Willow looked around the store. Oh, it would be so cool to work here. Every day could be just like one big magical orgy- only without the sex, because, you know, eww- but there were so-

Her reverie was cut short by Anya's strident tone. "Giles! You're supposed to consult me! I'm partnered in this store!"

"Anya- we cannot continue to have the entire team come in to help out without compensation. A few hours a week- our busiest nights and weekends- let's hire someone. I have Watcher duties again. We cannot run the store alone." Giles looked at her blearily, speaking with his head sinking on to his chest. "I'm a bloody fool. I don't even like the mall, why did I go last night?"

Anya turned her attention back to business- as if she'd ever left it. "Oh... okay. Saturdays and Friday nights are the busiest. Oh, and Mondays. That's when the people usually come in, looking for antidotes to whatever went wrong on Sunday with the stuff they bought on Saturday. Tara? Willow?"

"I think I'll pass, Anya, Giles." Willow quickly spoke up. She liked Anya a lot more than she used to- but she drove her nuts. She had a ton of standing offers from the tech center on campus, plus some big companies who had tried to "court her" in high school, they were always offering her freelance work.

"I'd love to." Tara nodded eagerly. Those hours didn't sound too bad.

"Could we back up?" Xander had pulled himself to his feet with a weary groan. "Wills? Did you and Tara say you're getting your own place?"

"Yeah. We-" Willow looked at him, standing unsteadily. Her blisters had blisters. Anya better give her all the ingredients for a blister removing potion for free! "We decided-" How did you word this?

"We're taking things to the next step. A p-permanent thing." Tara smiled bashfully.

Shouts of congratulations were offered, hugging and kissing beginning. Spike hung back but cried, "Well done, the pair of you."

Spike shot a look at Buffy. He'd heard the extremely short version of this story, which consisted of "No one's freaking, everything's fine, Tara and Willow are moving out in a month or so, but money's no problem and no- you don't need to worry."

So. Just Niblet and Buffy at home now. Well, well. They'd have to cut their romantic nights short, or maybe, maybe finally, she'd let him in. Properly in, spend the night on occasion. The way boyfriends often did.

Or maybe he'd just have to see her less and less. He sighed and headed towards the alley behind the Magic Box, a place he and Buffy had often sat and pretended to ignore one another, in reality, speaking occasionally, always saying a lot. Just not talking much. He sat on a stack of wooden palettes, lighting up. Here was where she said it. "I can be alone with you here." This was where she'd told him about heaven, begged him, ordered him, to tell no one else. The first real sign he had that they were getting close. Close on a different level.

Buffy watched him leave, nervous thoughts circling in her brain. Oh, I know he wants me to move forward, get on with our relationship. God, we have a _relationship_- we do. I didn't mean to, but- I'm glad for it, really. When I think about it. _This puts a huge crimp in our time alone, in my work- unless I let him be part of the -oh no. Don't say that word_.

With a sigh, she decided to follow him outside, leaving the rest as they began slowly restocking and cleaning. "Hey." Buffy sat down next to him.

"Hey, Luv." He smiled and puffed smoke in the opposite direction before quickly turning to face her again.

"Um. I don't know what this means for us." Oh, that sounded dire. "In terms of- time- and... sleep." She blushed, using a less suggestive term since she knew her sister or friends could easily walk in on them.

"I'm still in your life though. That's what matters."

"I love you. I gave you my heart." She swallowed. "Remember?"

"Give me your heart, make it real, or else forget about it." Spike quoted the song they had danced to on their first "date". He touched her cheek lovingly with an outstretched hand. "I do remember, Luv. Gave you mine as well." Nearly a full year before that date, but oh, well, as long as she finally noticed it without one of us gettin' killed- killed _again, _that's the important thing.

"I don't know what this is going to do, to change, exactly. I mean- oh, for one thing, I have to fill those stupid social services forms out again, saying Willow and Tara won't be there starting in January. And- how am I going to patrol? I can't leave Dawn home by herself. She could stay at the store until late, sometimes. Willow said they'd still come over and -"

"Slayer." Spike said the single word firmly, but softly, a short breath. She ceased to speak. "It won't matter. I won't leave. You won't stop lovin' me, I won't stop lovin' you. Everything will work out." _'Cause I will bloody _make_ it work out or get dusted tryin'._

It would. It would work out, they were all going to work together. He wasn't going to bail. "This world still hurts, you know. It's better now, not so raw and bright. But it still sucks. All the emotions, the hard choices, and trying to understand everyone else when you finally realize that you don't even understand yourself most of the time..." She sighed and leaned against him.

"Yeah. Life's a bitch, and then you die." He flicked his cigarette away, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"And then they bring you back." She sighed ruefully.

"Mm, good times." He grinned cheekily. "We're stuck in this place for a reason, right, Luv?"

"I guess. It won't be so bad. You're right. Everything will work out." She cast a cautious glance at him. "You'll still come hang out with Dawn, come for dinner sometimes?"

"Of course. Why would that change?"

It wasn't going to change. Nothing. That was why she said that. Dense vampire. Nothing was going to change about him and her in the house. He could spend more time there. But he wasn't going to live there. Sleep there. Well, maybe sleep there. But not in her bed, not in her room. "I just wanted to make sure you'd still stop by." She muttered, not looking at him.

Stop by. Not stay. "Same rules apply?" He sighed. "It's no big thing, Pet. Not pushin', not pressin'. In your own time..." He tensed ever so slightly. Poker face in place. Eyes vacant. This is the biggest bluff you've ever played. If she didn't relax this stupid hardline stance about lettin' him in, even after last night, when it almost killed them both with longing to be together but they resisted it... well, he was gettin' very close to the makin' a fool out of himself stage._ A bigger fool,_ his snide inner voice commented, and he told it to flip off.

Knowing Spike wanted her to bend a little, but didn't pressure her for it made all the difference. _You really do love to do the opposite of what people expect. So? I'm good with the abnormal. _The undead, soulless vamp turns out to be the most perfectly normal lover and partner. Getting killed made me feel at peace, being alive again made me feel dead. Slayers are supposed to be alone and unloved and I've got a kick ass support group in there- supporting me. Really. About everything, everyone. "There's going to be a third bedroom open."

"Mmhmm." Unnecessary breath in. Unnecessary breathe out. "Bit more space."

"I was going to turn it into a guest room."

"Good plan."

" 'Cause, you know, people will probably be there with Dawn until late and I wouldn't want them to have walk home or drive home if they were tired." Buffy made the all too true excuse.

"Nope."

"Or if you ever wanted to stay- I mean during the day, take a nap if you've walked me home..." She hastily ran the words out before her screeching inner-slayer could tell her not to "fix up a guest room for the evil vampire!".

"That's right nice of you, Luv." He smiled at her, looking at her for the first time in a minute. Poor little lost girl. Why so wide eyed, so fearful? It isn't of me. Harmless as a kitten, especially to her and hers. No, it's this fear of bein' in love, bein' fully in love, fully together. What'd those blokes do to that soft, pretty heart of yours that you can't let me in without such pain? "An' you still visit my crypt, of course." He smiled, put her at ease. _See, I'm not "movin' in", I'll have my spot, you'll have yours... until you want me with you always._

"You're a good boyfriend. Do you know that?"

"I was tryin' to be. I've got the best girlfriend in all the world."

"I'm not a good girlf-"

"You are the best girlfriend in the universe. I get that, Buffy. I soddin' get what those other assholes did not. You don't deserve to be left, you don't deserve to be pushed, an' you don't need someone treatin' you like you're an effin' invalid. You deserve to be loved, and helped. Fought for. Not fought over. I'm gonna see that you get what you deserve."

"Oh, Spike." She let out a breathy sigh of appreciation and she kissed him, long, and hard, and deep, not caring that they were in public or that her friends might pop their heads out any second.

"Well, where'd they go? There must be twenty more boxes to bring up!" Anya protested to her groom-to-be. "Xander? Did you find them?"

"They're fine." Xander returned from the back room in a slightly dazed manner, with a slightly strangled sounding voice. He'd only wanted to see if they were taking the flattened boxes out to the recycling bins... and instead he got an eyeful of Evil Dead with his tongue down Buffy's throat. Actually, and more sickeningly, _Buffy_ seemed to be the one running the show.

"Then tell them to hurry up!" Anya insisted.

"No. Not -right now." He coughed-nearly gagged- and then spoke again. "I think we should just leave them alone for a little bit."

"I think there's kissing happening." Willow stage whispered. Tara and Anya beamed, Giles covered his eyes with a weary hand and slumped further down in his chair, and Dawn squealed.

"I really, _really_ hate that guy." Xander leaned on the counter.

"But you just left them undisturbed to continue their making out?" Anya clarified.

"Buffy looked happy. Alive and happy." He shrugged. "And Spike didn't seem to be trying anything. So I'm okay-ish. Nauseous, but dealing."

"Everyone get your things. The store is closed. We'll restock in the morning. It's Saturday, so Tara, if you want to start, and Dawn, if you want to come in for some holiday rush help, you can." Anya briskly locked the cash register, and began pulling the ledgers off the counter to take into the back room.

"But- the boxes? The restocking?" Giles rose rapidly, knowing he should have more say in the day to day management of the shop, but not caring if it meant he got to leave and get to bed at a decent hour for the first time in four days.

"Don't push it, Giles." Willow hissed, grabbing Tara's hand and her shoulder bag.

"You just did something very, very nice for those two." Anya looked into Xander's eyes as he helped her lock away some of the more valuable objects. "We're going home. You are going to get positively reinforced until you can't move."

"Oh." Xander blinked. "_Oohhhh_. I love you, Baby."

"I love you, too." She seized his hand. "We're leaving! Oh, Giles, will you make sure Spike and Buffy don't start having intercourse in the alley? I don't want the shop to get a bad name. Bye, everyone!"

"She has bad brain-mouth coordination." Willow gaped after the pair, Xander shrugging apologetically once, and then running out, hand in hand with his fiancée.

"You don't have to check the alley, Giles." Dawn seemed the least put off by Anya's blunt words. "They won't do anything they're not supposed to do."

"Dawn, what are you supposed to be doing?" Buffy demanded.

"Packing." Dawn said complacently.

"That doesn't look like packing." Dawn sat cross legged under the Christmas tree, reading the new novel Spike had gotten her.

"Tara and Willow are still at the new place. They aren't here to tell me what to pack." Dawn flipped a page.

"I can tell you what to pack. Come on, they don't have much here." Buffy hoisted a box and carried it resolutely up the stairs.

Dawn watched her sister trudging up the stairs and had an abrupt change of heart. "I'll do it. You should go get ready for patrol."

Buffy looked down at her outfit. Comfortable black pants and a tight, warm blue sweater. Socks. "Put my shoes on?"

"Ugh! You and Spike. You should be making the most of your last days of freedom, while you still have a Dawn-sitter in residence. Which I so do not need."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't!"

"You tried to heat up left over pizza by putting slices of it in the toaster." Buffy reminded her.

"I was ten!"

"You were fourteen! As in last year!"

"Ah, the sounds of sisterly love." Spike came in through the front door, letting himself in with the key he'd found slipped inside the pocket of the new jeans Buffy had given him for Christmas. After all the others left, and he could thank her properly, he found the key came along with the threat of being staked if he ever used it when he wasn't "supposed to", a vague term that Spike and Buffy understood well. ( i.e. Only come in when it doesn't look like you're here for the sole purpose of ravishing me. )"What's the latest crisis? Can't be homework, you're off until the second."

"Are you taking Buffy out, or just for patrol?" Dawn demanded.

Spike looked at his two girls, frozen in place at opposite ends of the staircase. "Whatever you fancy, Pet. Good win last night. Can spring for dinner and a show, if you're game."

"Just patrol." She said, but he could read her body language. Her subtle shift, the sudden faint tinge of wetness he could smell. Patrol would be quick and hard. Love making would be long and hmm- probably gentle and ravenous by turns. They'd been struggling to find time together, and Spike knew she wouldn't admit it, but the bottom level of his crypt was getting more damp and chilly the further into winter they got. The last night she'd been there, they'd gone to take shower after, and the water was probably just above freezing point.

He had made up his mind. He was going to get enough to get his own place. A room. Angel'd managed a room, the pillock. He just needed one good scheme, get enough to get set up- an' then there would be no more sneaking to the crypt. They'd go to his place. A warm, living place, for his warm, living girl. With an actual shower and an actual loo, an' more than one chair, one towel. And a bed. A new bed, a clean bed, for them. We need a fresh start, both of us, learnin' to be alive again. In the meantime...

"Let's get this place in order, then. We'll leave as soon as the wiccans return."

"You are a bloody, stubborn woman." Spike watched his golden goddess, healthier looking than he'd seen her in the last three years, slowly undressing as she stood by his bed. "We could move this lot upstairs, Luv, it's warmer." He gestured to the pillows and quilt.

"Shh. I wanna be alone with you."

That much was true. He could smell and see the evidence, moisture glistening on her pouting lips. "Then get in this bed and let me warm you up." He growled.

"You're not warm." She teased, but scrambled in.

"You know you're drawn to this cold flame." He reminded her, and pulled her to him, nipping her all over, working his way down. "We could be nice an' toasty at your place."

"Soon." She gasped.

"Soon?" He rested his head on her silken torso and looked up.

"Soon you can be there. Sometimes."

"I'm not worried about me, Luv, I don't mind the cold." He lapped down, spreading her thighs around his head and inhaling her glorious scent. "You gonna let me touch you, Sweetheart?" His fingers teased her wetness out of her hole and smeared it across her delicate nub, before his tongue cleaned it off. She gasped sharply and he smiled. "You gonna let me prove how soft and silent I can be while I make sweet love to my girl?"

"Spike." Another tortured gasp. In a good way.

"Is that a yes, Kitten? Is it a yes, Pet?" He cleaved her opening wide and ravaged her with his long, skillful, seeking tongue.

"When- no -one's home."

"Where?"

"Well-" She blushed, body giving a near climactic heave, "we only ever- those two times."

"And I don't think the hallway and the bathroom floor are good places." Yet, he added inside his head. Waited her out before, wait her out again. Someday every inch of that house was going to be their playground.

"I- ooooh." Words were finished with for the moment as her body went into a spasm and he held her through it, bridging the moment's gap with more oral attention, not letting her rest. "Oh God, you're gonna kill me."

"No. I'm bringing you back to life." His blue eyes burned into hers and he stalked up her, panther-like and sinuous, settling his length against her pouting, shivering chasm without entering her. "You make me alive, Luv. Properly alive."

"You give me that, too." She confessed, kissing him, tracing his pale sculpted lips with her tongue. "All the pieces... you helped me find so many pieces I'd lost."

"Found your trust again? Maybe not all things, but in one things at least, right?"

"Right. I trust you with the important things."

"Your heart?" He slowly pushed himself inside.

"My heart." She rose to meet him more fully, relief flooding through her as he filled her up. Filled up all the empty spaces. _He's good at that._

"How about your home?" His voice a low murmur by her ear.

"You have a key." She twisted nervously under him, hips bucking even as her face clouded. Don't ask, don't ask, I can't make a commitment, not like a "living together" commitment. Once they know- once they know, they leave... _But he never left. He never, ever left._

"What are you gonna do, Pet, when I spend the night in that guest bedroom? Just a wall between us?"_ You're pushing, you idiot_. I don't care. We've come so bloody far, her mates know an' they don't mind much, she's got herself a day job an' school lined up... I know she can handle things alone. Jus' don't want her to. Wanna be with her. Help her. Why's that make me a bad bloke, thought all girls wanted a man who could commit, says so on the stupid daytime talk shows. I would pick one of the few who doesn't._ S'pose that's why I'm so crazy for her. Neither of us fit the soddin' mold._

"Sleep?" She hazarded. Uh. Yeah. Riiiight. _You couldn't even sleep with a house full of people when he was downstairs. _What are you going to do when there's six feet between you and only one other person- who wants you two together almost as bad as you want to be together. Dawn would probably start lighting candles and putting on mood music every night, just in the attempt...

"I won't sleep at all. I'll be lyin' awake, missin' you, and wishing I could just hold you for a bit. That's all I would do, if that's all you want, Luv." _That's pathetic_, his demon growled. His inner man, his humanity, disagreed. _No. That's sacrificing and unselfish. If I'd been a bit quicker on the sacrificing and unselfish bit last time, maybe I could have saved her. _

"No. That's not what I want at all." She bit her lip._ I want us to fall asleep in each other's arms every day. I want to get another piece of trust back each day when I wake up to see him still there every morning._ "You make me want to give in, Spike, forget all the bad things you did, and I did, that happened to either of us."

"I'm all for that, Pet." He stroked her hair away from her face softly.

"But I can't yet." She lied to herself, to him, knowing it was only one more fear locking her into a lonely place. She knew she was denying herself, from the mixture of fear, worry, and guilt. "It's not your fault..."

He watched her writhing under him, body and brain clearly working at cross purposes. "Shh. It's not your fault either." He sighed deeply and smiled. "I was pushin'. I'm sorry, I told you I wouldn't- until you're ready to be pushed." He bent his head to hers an kissed her hard and deep. I'll make the world fall away for her. There will be nothing but the two of us in this room, inside each other. She will be warm and safe and loved an' I'll be her heaven. He ramped up the force, but not the speed of his strokes, hands involved more and more, touching her, pulling her to him, never taking his mouth from hers for more than a quick second so she could breathe.

It's like losing consciousness- only not, Buffy thought hazily, wrapped in waves of pleasure and closeness to the man she loved. Everything starts to blur, and get darker on the edges- until there's only him and me. And that's all I want. "Spike!" She spoke into his mouth, and he pulled up with a panting,

"Yeah, Luv?"

"You can push."

It took him a minute to replay what he'd said- it seemed like an hour ago, but he knew it had only been an intense few moments. What had he said? I_ was pushin'. I'm sorry, I told you I wouldn't- until you're ready to be pushed. _"You sure 'bout that?" He quirked his scarred brow at her.

Dammit. I even think his eyebrow is sexy now. I'm so screwed. "No, I'm not _sure_. But if you try it-sometime- I promise not to kill you. Or break your nose."

They shared a laugh that turned into groaning, moaning climax, his mirroring hers perfectly.

"Buffy." He whispered, as they started to pull apart, only to settle themselves into a different type of closeness, a spooning embrace.

"My Spike."

I'm hers. Miracles happen. She's mine. There is a God, an' he takes pity on fools in love, sometimes. "I won't push much." He whispered as she started to drowsily shift against him, seeking his comforting arms to hold her tighter, keep her nightmares away.

"I don't need much of a push." She mumbled. "I love you."

"Well, this is it." Willow and Tara stood on the front porch, a few odds and ends held tightly in their hands.

"This is it." Buffy nodded tightly. A feeling of emptiness was welling up inside her. This house- just me and Dawn- no Mom. No Will and Tara, always around, about to come home, or about to leave, but I knew they would be here eventually. Even as mad as I was- I guess I relied on them for so much. "I'm getting choked up, guys."

"That's good! That's healthy." Tara praised, stepping nearer.

"No, it's not good." Dawn huffed. "You're moving six blocks away, I can walk there!" Her three adult friends shot a glare at her. "Which I won't be doing, unless it's broad daylight, I'm expected, and I call when I get there." She rolled her eyes.

"Thank you." Buffy laughed. "But- this is a big deal. We should do something special." She sniffed in quickly and ran a thumb under her eye. No tears. No _tears_.

"Yeah, totally. What about tomorrow for lunch? A late lunch, obviously."

"Sure! Or we could go tonight. The Bronze is having some big party." Buffy paused as her sister and two about-to-be-former roomies stared at her. "What? Did I say something stupid?"

"No." All three of them said, very quickly.

"Uh-oh. What'd I say?" Buffy demanded.

"Nothing wrong, it's just- New Year's Eve. We have plans, and so do Xander and Anya."

"And Giles said I could help at the store and then go to a slam at the Espresso Pump with him. Then I'm gonna crash on his couch." Dawn reminded her sister.

"But all that's on Saturday!"

"This_ is _Saturday."

"Oh." Buffy bit her lip. "Missed that one."

"We thought maybe you and Spike would have plans?" Willow asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, we do. We so do. I just- forgot what day it was." She lied, completely unconvincingly. He hadn't mentioned anything. Of course, that could be because she'd done a "commercialized romantic holidays suck!" rant in the middle of the grocery store two nights ago when Valentine's Day gifts were already up and replacing all the Christmas stuff she'd wanted to get on clearance.

"W-we could-" Tara began to make a suggestion, and Buffy stamped on it.

"No! No changing plans. This is a big night. First night in your new place. Starting a new year, new page of your-book of life- together." Buffy hastily dismissed any guilt induced plan changing they might consider. _New page of your book of life_? Wow. That's almost as good as Spike's "The artifact of our Lord shouldn't even be touched by my unclean hands." bit. A secret smile crossed her face in remembrance.

_I guess she _does_ have plans_, Willow and Tara said through a glance, and Dawn giggled.

"We should get going. We have to get the bed put together if we want to actually sleep." Willow shuffled her feet awkwardly. Don't blush, it's not like they know you have yummy Tara plans and don't think sleeping will happen...

"I-it was really nice of you to let us have the bed from our room." Tara wrapped her arms around Dawn, who, in spite of her outburst about Buffy's tears, looked pink around the eyes.

"I think Mom would have loved it if you two had it." Buffy hadn't wanted to keep it, and she hadn't wanted to use it as a guest room piece of furniture. Her mom had loved and trusted Willow and Tara, and she would be happy that they were together.

"We're just up the road. You know the place." Willow and Tara had taken a small one bedroom in an old, rambling house that had been converted into four apartments. It was old-fashioned and cheap, but they both loved it, thought it was "charming".

"We have time to work out a schedule of Dawnie-time before the semester starts." Tara had moved on to Buffy.

"I'll miss you so much!" Dawnie bear hugged Willow.

"Me, too!"

So much for not crying, Buffy thought as all four of them teared up to some degree, exchanged numerous hugs and promises and finally, finally, they left.

Dawn and Buffy stared at each other. It feels too much like when Mom died. And we were on our own. "It won't be like that this time." Buffy whispered, putting her arm loosely around Dawn's back. "Spike's going to be around for one thing."

"That's great. But that won't matter." Dawn gave her a brave, strangely satisfied smile.

"I thought you were like, gonna die of Spike withdrawal if he didn't visit every day. Wasn't that you who said that? Or did they build a Dawn Bot and teach it to whine?" Buffy teased.

"I _will_ have Spike issues- so you'd better let him come over A LOT, but I meant, we don't _need_ someone else, Buffy. You don't treat me like a-" Dawn struggled for a word, and changed her explanation, "you treat me like a person. Like a sister. Not a baby or a-a- thing you have to lock up in a safe."

"I never meant to treat you like that." Buffy whispered, holding her closer.

"I never meant to make you feel like you needed to treat me like that." Dawn returned her hug.

"So what are you saying?" Buffy pulled back and peered at her sister.

"That we can do this on our own if we have to. Sisters?"

"Forever." Buffy suppressed her resurfacing tears. "Brat."

"Howler monkey."

"Where do you get these?" Buffy rolled her eyes. "Come on. Let's go eat lunch. The new bed should be delivered soon, and I'm going to fix up the guest room, make it really nice. There's lots of stuff from the attic we could- why are you looking a me like that?"

"Like what?" Dawn rearranged her expression quickly.

"Like you spilled ketchup on my white shirt, folded it up and put it back in the drawer." Buffy put her hands on her hips.

"Do you ever think about making the master bedroom your room? And your room could be the guest room?"

"No." Buffy said with complete honesty. "Why?'

"Because your room is small and Mom's is big. Don't you want some more room? You're the head of the household." Dawn nudged.

"Now I_ know_ you did something. I'm the _head_ of the household? So I'm the _boss_?"

"Not exactly... but you're the oldest. You should have the bigger room." Dawn hedged. _My sister is brain damaged. You should have the bigger room, and the bigger bed, so that you and Spike can live her and he can be part of the family. Stupid._

"That would be so much work, Dawn-"

"I'll help you."

"What did you DO?" Buffy cried. _Basically calling me the boss, telling me I get the bigger room, offering to help me swap rooms- she'd better not be pregnant or something..._

"The bed." Dawn squeaked.

"What about the bed?" Buffy said in a low, urgent voice.

"I changed the order form. Double to queen. I paid for the difference. Well- I put the difference in your account. So- same difference, ha ha." Dawn spoke in a rush ending with a nervous laugh.

"Why? Why would you do that?" Buffy blinked, already knowing, and blushing.

"What if Tara and Willow want to sleep over, or Xander and Anya?"

"A double fits two. My bed is a double and Riley and I-" She shut that sentence down abruptly, blush now moving from pale pink to deep rose. "That's fine. Whatever. But I'm not moving rooms and I don't mind if the guest bedroom bed is bigger than mine. Whatever. Just- let's just go get it fixed up."

"Are you mad at me?" Dawn asked softly.

"No. Yes! Don't do things like that! Is that the real reason you changed the form?" Buffy dropped her semblance of calm.

"No. I thought- maybe someday- far, far away maybe, but someday... you might need it. 'Cause you're with someone who really loves you and wants to stick around. Who loves me, too, and tries to be part of our family. And don't tell me not to say family! I love you both, and I- I like when we're all together. It kinda feels like- our family isn't so empty." She cast an unthinking glance to the wall, a picture of the three of them, her mother and two daughters._ A family has been three people as long as I can remember. _"I'm sorry I went behind your back. I wanted something to happen, and I guess I thought this might push it along." Dawn spoke to the floor, silently berating herself. _When have you ever pushed Buffy that didn't end up making her snap like a psycho freak?_

_ A push. Maybe Spike isn't the only one who can tell when I'm ready. _Buffy swallowed her harsher words and moderated her tone. "Please tell me before you 'push', okay?"

"Okay." Dawn nodded, eyes not meeting Buffy's.

"Let's go eat something." Buffy hid her sigh and tried to smile.

Buffy jammed the last strut into place. If it fell apart this time, she made a promise not to touch it anymore until Xander could help her. She turned up the radio, and started fitting sheets to the bed, which was not in danger of collapse this time. Looking at her handiwork with a satisfied sigh, she left to start hauling things down from the attic. The dresser, bed, and mirror were all that filled the room. Mom's room. _I'm not letting go, Mommy. Just- starting fresh._

She cast a speculative eye at her room as she passed it on the way to the pull down steps of the attic. It _does_ kinda look like a kid's room. _How is that possible? I still have a New Kids on the Block poster! Oh, God, that's so lame._ Maybe- maybe I should think about moving over. I'm back in this world, and I'm a little different. Maybe I need something a little different. Maybe I _want_ something a little different.

She slowly drifted into her room and picked up Mr. Gordo, her childhood stuffed animal. With even slower steps she walked to the newly vacated room and hesitated by the bed. _Sorry, Gordy. You're awesome and you still get a place of honor, but not next to me anymore._ She gently put him on the bare dresser.

"Hey! Buffy?"

"Spike!" She couldn't keep the note of happy out of her voice. Oh, shit. Spike. Alone in the house together- and no one else would be coming home. And there was a new, clean, bed...

"Whoa!" Spike skidded down the few stairs he'd managed to come up, hurtled into by his blonde land mine. "Thought you sounded happy to see me." He laughed, and looked at her panicked expression. "What is it, Pet? You're not mad at me for not bein' here sooner, are you?"

"Huh?" Oh. No, no, not at all."

"It's this New Year's Eve crap, isn't it?"

Memories of past New Year's Eves sped through her mind, each one leaving a different sting, either of loneliness or bittersweet memory for those no longer in her life. "I don't do well with holidays."

"No kiddin'. Neither do I." He shook one hand and Buffy noticed it was carrying a bottle. "Champagne and telly?"

"Oh, thank God." Buffy hugged him. "I don't wanna go out."

"Mmm? You wanna stay in, Luv?"

Her breath quickened, hearing the innuendo in his tone. "Well- I- I'm a mess. I have cobwebs and wood bits in my hair."

"I think you're gorgeous. What do I care what you look like, long as you're happy an' you're with me?" Spike kissed her, insistently, slowly walking her backwards- step by step heading to the second floor.

"Spike! Stop. We can't."

"Why can't we?" He grinned.

"Superstition. Okay? I have- bed issues." She looked deeply embarrassed and then muttered, "My bed- has a curse on it. Don't laugh, or I'll poke you with something sharp and wooden-y." Spike didn't even bat an eye.

"Thought you got a brand new bed." Spike continued to walk her slowly in reverse.

"How-"

"Stopped in at the Magic Box before coming here. Burba weed. Niblet told me."

"She told you wrong. It's a bed for the guest room."

"I'm a guest, aren't I?" His blue eyes twinkled lazily at her.

She slammed her hands across the doorway. "No." She said without any conviction at all.

"I'm not a guest?" He teased, running his hands slowly along her sides.

"Yes, you are, but-" She moaned when he squeezed her hips, fingers digging softly into her backside. "but this room isn't ready yet."

"Is your room?"

"N-no." She breathlessly leaned into his touch, kissing him in spite of herself.

"Don't I even get to come in, Slayer? See the new pretties?" He wheedled, a boyish pout on his face..

Damn that devil tongue. "Yes, fine- but just don't -" Spike plopped down on the bed. "-touch anything." Buffy concluded with a sigh.

"Too late. Already touched plenty." He smirked and motioned her over. She stood in front of him, just out of reach, refusing to be drawn towards the bed. "You're gonna make me work for this one. I see." He lunged quickly and caught her hand, but only pulled her a few steps closer. "I can wait you out. I can convince you."

Yes, he could. Convinced her of so many things, all of them good, or good for her if not purely and wholly "good". That what she called sex was making love. That he wouldn't leave. That she could trust him. "I know you can. I can't trust myself though."

"You're smart, Slayer. Self-doubt can keep you alive, makes you rethink each step of your battle plans." He gave her a malevolent grin. "It can also get you killed, Luv. 'He who hesitates is lost'."

"So if I hesitate, I'm lost? You're lost?" Her voice suddenly became piqued instead of merely doubting and conflicted. "Make a move? Make up my mind, right now?"

"Whoa, Baby, listen-" Some cliches should be outlawed. Oh, that wouldn't help him anyway, he'd say 'em twice as much for the fun of it.

"NO!" Riley flash backs flooded her mind. The bed- he left her sleeping in it to find someone who "needed him". The hesitation- she couldn't give him the answer he wanted immediately- he left. For good. He'd never once contacted or called her. Never came back. Left her alone when her mother was sick, and her sister was hunted. "Get out. Get out, right now, right now!"

Spike let her push him down the stairs and out, noticing with dread that her face and eyes no longer looked like "his" Buffy. All taut and tense, withdrawn and bathed in cold anger. The door banged in his face, and he could hear her heart thumping hard, almost like knocking to his sensitive ears. She was leaning on the door, must be. _An' if I could just reach through this, Luv, and touch you- I'd explain. Take it all away if you let me._

You just flipped on him. And not even _for _him. At him. Over some loser from the past. God, what are you doing this for? Buffy jerked the open quickly- and found herself staring at nothing. No one.

Instead of being angry, fear and self-loathing were boiling inside her. You made him leave. You pushed him away, closed him out. He stayed with one crazy, evil bitch for a hundred and twenty years or something extreme- and you drove him away in about three months. He was with you for years when he hated you, but you try and love him back and- you fail at loving. _See why I hate holidays? _

She didn't even try not to cry as she dragged herself up the stairs and flopped onto her bed. Her loser bed, in her kid room. In the "I can't handle my life" room.

"Don't cry, Luv." a muffled voice pleaded. Buffy gasped and got up, hurrying to her window. Spike was looking up at her, perched down by the oak tree. His "stalker" oak tree, where he'd so often waited for her and watched for her, all the while trying to pretend he didn't care about her.

"Spike?"

"I know you don't want me in. But I don't leave, remember?" He winked, waved, and leaned back on the tree.

And he'll wait for you there. For hours. He really won't leave. "You don't have to stay." She called softly, pushing up the window.

"I happen to like it here. Beautiful scenery." He smirked up at her.

"You're gonna get arrested! People will think you're a peeping tom!" She hissed.

"Never have before, Luv. But that would be the way my luck runs. William the Bloody, known as Spike, picked up for window peekin', never mind over a century's worth of murder and mayhem." He smiled at her complacently, blowing smoke into the bleak December air.

Walking slowly, unsure why she felt the urge to move, she walked to the next room over, and raised that window as well. When she looked back towards the ground, Spike was gone. "He needs to stop doing-"

"Doin' what?" Spike's voice- along with his body- emerged from the taller points of the oak and he leapt, landing neatly on the roof ledge outside her room. "Thought I'd be all right this way, Slayer." He prowled along the edge, swaggering to the place she now stood. "Technically I _am_ outside." He paused beside the recently opened window and then sank down, to look at her, cocky, bantering attitude melting off. "You don't have to speak to me, Luv. Know I said somethin' wrong. Thinkin' with my- well, not with my brain, let's say. I jus' want you to know I'm not leavin'. 'Kay? Promised you you'd never be rid of me, an' even if you're mad, I'm still sticking' around." He began to rise, to spend his vigil someplace less intrusive.

"I'm sorry for freaking on you." She whispered as he took his first step away.

"Didn't mean to push you so hard, Buffy. I thought you might be wantin' me to, but I've been wrong before." He turned and came back to her instantly.

"You weren't wrong."

I wasn't? And she admits it. Yet another miracle. Spike eased one leg inside the room, straddling the window. "Nothin' bad happens if you let me in your life all the way, Luv."

"Something bad always happens to me. And it'll happen to you, too. If you're with me." Buffy paced to the far side of the room, turning the radio up, idly scanning the stations, not looking at him.

"Buffy- since I met you, I've gotten my back broken. I've been left by Dru. Shacked up with Harmony- an' that's some new form of torture, Luv. I've gotten kidnapped by army nut cases, my head split open an' a soddin' piece of computer technology slapped in it, been tortured by a god- a god, would you b'lieve it, Joyce passed, Bit nearly died, an' _you did die_. You can't hurt me any more than that. There's nothin' left to take from me but you, an' even if I join up with you, knowin' there's something nasty just itchin' to get me- I'd do it. 'Cause I could be with you. An' you're all I want."

Buffy swallowed around the painful bundle of tears in her throat, and pulled him to her, slamming the window shut behind him, drawing the fluttering yellow curtains against the outside world and all its trickery. "Be here."

"I will. I promise, I will." He stroked her hair back with one strong hand and nudged her chin up with the other. "Listen to me."

She nodded, looking into his eyes, hearing his voice mingle with the music flooding the room.

_Hey little girl is your daddy home? _

_Did he go away and leave you all alone? _

"Your mates know. They know 'bout us, an' they don't care. They don't want you to be alone, isn't that what Red told you?"

"Yes. And I don't want to be alone, either. I know I _can_ be, I've got the bloodlines for it", they exchanged an eye roll, "but I want to be with someone I love."

_I got a bad desire _

"I want that just as much, Luv." _Maybe more. I know what it's like to be left, feel like something is fractured and can't be put right._

_I'm on fire _

_ "_What if I don't know how to love- long term love?"

"I believe you can. We at least have to try. We promised to try." _She's a world beater, of course she can do it. It's the ponces she's been with that screwed up the deal._

_Tell me now baby is he good to you? _

"Other guys didn't seem to think I was worth believing in. Or sticking around for."

_Can he do to you the things that I do? _

"They aren't like me. I think you're worth anything. Don't you get that?"

_I can take you higher _

"How can you, though? You don't have a-" _Stop saying it. You love him without it. And that's not his fault, you're the one in love with him. If a soul mattered that much, you wouldn't feel like you do. Like you can't let him go._

"I don't need one to feel this, Buffy. I just need_ you_." Blue eyes blazed into her. She knew when he lied, when he spoke the truth. This was true. Impossible, but true.

_I'm on fire _

With a gasp of acceptance, she wrapped her arms more fully around him, nodding, kissing, clawing up his arms and deeper into his embrace. I'm all _he_ needs. He's all _I _need.

_Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull _

_and cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my soul _

"Do I need a soul for you?" He sucked in some unneeded air. He knew a soul would change him- but it wouldn't make him stop loving Buffy. Angel needed his soul to love her, without it, he couldn't. Since he already loved her an' Bit without a soul, already turned over a new leaf, he didn't figure it'd make much difference if he got one. If she needed it. " 'Cause I'll find some way to get one."

"When you do things like that, Spike? Say things like that?" Her tears overflowed. "I think you already have one. Maybe the demon has it- but it's still in there."

_At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet and a freight train running through the _

_middle of my head _

You think I have one? Some kind of one?" Maybe that was why he was so human. Maybe not. What mattered was she thought it made him different. Lovable.

"I think it doesn't even matter. I just want you. I just want you so much."

"You'd love me without it?" He knew the answer, but yet, he always doubted it, wondered if it would change. He'd just never heard it so clearly stated, and he had to ask.

"I already do. I always will." She whispered, and she knew she could never change her mind. If this was the same cursed love, like she'd had for Angel- so be it. But this doesn't feel like that. This feels...better. Not better as in _more wonderful_, better as in it _fits_.

_Only you can cool my desire _

"Just want you. Need you, never leave you."

_I'm on fire _

Life flooded back to her, when they crashed onto the bed. Hot and burning, full of want, and need, lust, and love. _The fire doesn't freeze me anymore_. "I love you, Spike." _Sometimes the ice is just so cold it burns._

Fireworks went off, the ball dropped, a new year began. It went unnoticed by the two lovers in the house on Revello Drive. Champagne was poured and kisses were given around the world, but on that quiet street, a bottle of the best went rolling off to the side, jarred by numerous bangs as the new headboard was broken in against the wall. As for kisses- the kisses never stopped.

Buffy woke up languidly, puzzled. The radio was blaring. "Music history news for today, January first. On this day in-" She blinked and ignored the radio. Okay. New Year's Day. She was in Spike's arms. That was of the good. Why was she in Tara and Willow's room with Spike? And it was morning- or nearly morning- the light outside the yellow curtained windows was streaky and gray.

Spike spent the night. The realization thudded into her and she sat up. Beside her, he twitched, smiled as his eyes flickered open, and then blinked up at her. "Bright in here." He muttered in a confused voice.

"Uh-huh." She said in a slightly strangled tone. _Spike spent the night_. In my house. In my bed. Well, not my bed- no,why not my bed? I like this bed. It's a fresh start. It isn't jinxed. Oh, God, admit it, it's not the stupid bed, it's the stupid boys. This boy is damned, but he ain't jinxed. It's a new year, the Buffy Summers love curse is broken. _Okay, so my Prince Charming has a major sunlight allergy. Who the hell cares?He doesn't just kiss you and run and he likes evil ass-kicking princesses._

New year, new bed, new situation, new life- new love. Buffy let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

"Buffy? You okay?" Snapped her little mind. And she looks far away again. Dammit. I though we were doing so well... "Do you want me to leave your room for a bit, Pet? Give you some space?" Bloody hell, what was she gazing off into space for? Reminded him of that stupid, glazed look she had when looking in Melissa's mirror. Like she could see heaven.

"This isn't my room." She said in a curiously absent voice, head pivoting to his, a slow smile spreading across her face.

"Well, _this_ room then, the guest room." He sat up beside her, taking her shoulders in his hands. "Luv, look at me. You didn't get up while I was asleep and drink the bubbly did you?"

The smile spread even more, and finally reached her eyes. "You spent the night. You woke up next to me."

"Of course I did, you daft blonde. Have done every chance I get." He laughed in relief and kissed her. "I take it I'm not bein' kicked out yet?"

"No. Can this not be a guest room, or my room?"

"It's your house, Luv." He blinked at her. "Make it a soddin' shootin' gallery if you want."

"It's our room. This is going to be our bed." She had to laugh at his expression. She hadn't know it was possible to widen your eyes that much.

"What?" _What?_

"Stay if you want. You were right. I was ready to get pushed, I got pushed, and I fell into a very, very good place." She gulped. It was true. She just hadn't expected everything to fall so suddenly, so clearly into place. _Suddenly? Hello, where have you been for the last couple years- no wait, don't answer that._

"You did just say I was right, and all that? I'm not dreamin'?"_ If I'm dreamin' , please God, don't let me wake up from this one._

" Yeah." She shook her head with a sigh. "It might not be 'right' to want this love we have, Spike. But it's all I could ever ask for. It's real. It lasts. It's safe, and warm, and loving. My heaven."

So. She _could _see heaven. Spike slowly took her in his arms, every moment slowing down, down, until it stilled, and they were face to face._ If I move too fast- it'll bursts, it all runs..._ "Of course I'll stay here. I wanna be with my girls, want to be with you." He kept his voice soft and steady, deadly serious. No room for flippancy or error. They were almost home...

"You're right, Luv. Maybe this, what we have, is all wrong. But this, what we have, is all I could ever want. You said we had- back in Cliffside- before our- first time," his voice a mere breath in her ear, "you said we both had a 'bad desire'. I don't know if you still think it is, but you, Buffy, you are, an' you always will be my only desire. Bad desire, any desire. My heart's desire." He smiled suddenly, cheeks jerking with the effort of suppressing tears, and the catch in his throat.

She looked up at him, and pressed her fingers under his eyes to wipe the invisible tears, and slowly slid her hands softly along his cheeks until they clasped behind his neck. She pulled him back down, on top of her, watching the fireworks explode in his eyes, and the lightening struck grin of realization grace his face. "I don't think it's bad. Not anymore. Your heart's desire? How can a man- with such a good heart- even think that?" She whispered softly, sharing his incredulous grin. " Yeah, I said that. I meant it." 

"I believe you." He nodded, deepening their kisses. "Happy New Year, Luv."

She smiled into his eyes. "Happy new _life_... Love."

_Author's Notes:_

_ Thank you to all of you who have read along. I appreciate all the feedback and support I've been given. This part of the story ends here, but I do have ideas for a short piece that shows the continuation of the relationship, so keep an eye out for a possible sequel._

_Humbly and Gratefully,_

_Sweetprincipale_


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